Cherokee Rose
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: "I'm not fragile Loki," her voice was barely above a whisper. 'In my world, you are.' - - Loki/OC - -
1. Chapter 1

_**11:09 p.m. - 2/25/14**_

_I caught the Loki bug some time ago but I didn't have a plot to go off of until now. This is just a teaser chapter, testing the waters to see what you guys like. Please, please let me know what you guys think. I do not own the lyrics used._

* * *

_**I can see now how the child can grow old**_

_**and I can see just how the darkness takes its hold**_

_**and I have seen how the compromise is made**_

_**and I can see how light can lose his way**_

* * *

_Elegancy at its finest, _hums a voice in the back of his head.

He watches from the hallway, leant against the cool surface of the wall as she dances around her bathroom. Bare feet skim acrosa the coll granite floor, the swish of her dress sounding as soft as her voice. Long fingers run through her copper curls, her eyes looking for something but obviously not finding it by the set of the frown on her face. She hums in delight as she finds a clip, reaching for it on the top shelf of her bathroom vanity. After sliding it into place her hair stays in a perfect flow on the crown of her skull. She leans into the mirror over her sink, running the tips of her fingers against her lashes, smiling warmly as she twirls one more time.

He smiles softly, one not of usual mischief, but of sincere contentment and pride. A sigh slides past her lips and she turns to her bag on the counter, muttering a few choice curse words as she cannot find what she wants again. He pushes off of the wall, silent as always, and moves towards her. She sighs in frustration and let her hands smack against her thighs. He smirks and slides that extra length forward, his arms slinking effortlessly around her wide hips. She jumps and squeals for a moment, fighting against his hands before she manages to turn around and catches familiar features. Her face relaxes and she smiles, reaching up to tighten her fingers around his tie.

"You still can't get your tie straight," she mutters.

"I don't even want to go, I never do."

She smiles and reaches up, her face drawing a blank as her fingers ran across his jaw then his cheek bones, through his hair. "You're still as beautiful as the day I met you..." she whispers.

He smiles lightly. "Shouldn't I be saying that?"

She makes no noise, her face does not move. "Will I...Will you still love me when my hair turns gray?"

"Yes."

"When my skin sags," she turns to the mirror and he follows her movements, staring over the top of her head into the mirror. "When I am covered in wrinkles? Liver spots?

"Yes."

She pauses. "When I have arthritis, when you have to help me out of bed?"

He closes his eyes and turns her around in his arms, staring down at her brillia nt eyes. "I will love you till the end, why do you not believe me?"

She smiles a little. "Because...even after all of this I do not trust those words. After you have heard them as much as I have, you start to lose faith to."

His face draws its own blank and he looks around the room, his head shaking slightly before he looks back down at her. "I will never lie to you, I have promised you so many times. I am here to protect you, to love you and I will fulfill my duties until..."

She frowns. "Until I die."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

He sighs in slight frustration and reaches up, tilting her chin to look at him directly in the eye. "I will serve you until I am no longer required, is what I was going to say."

"All I hear is until I am dead."

Loki sighed and then laughed. "Stubborn young one you are..."

She smiled at last, wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down closer. "Would you have me any other way?"

"Obviously not," his lips smirked against hers.

* * *

_Please review! _


	2. Chapter 2

"_**I'll remember you…"**_

I got into a car wreck when I was sixteen.

I had just learned to drive and I had decided to drive myself home from school. My grandmother had told me several times she didn't want me to, said I still wasn't ready even though I had my license. I hadn't listened to her though, I had just went along my merry little way, giddy to show my friends my new car and my shiny new license. I was a big hit at school, my friends were so excited for me, my boyfriend was just as excited but for different reasons. I was high off of praise while I was driving down the road.

Maybe if I hadn't been using my foot as a heavy piece of lead, maybe if I would have taken my normal route home, maybe if I wouldn't have left school earlier than usual. Maybe…I've run out of maybe's. What happened, happened.

It changed my whole life, and I didn't even know it until fifteen years later.

* * *

They say when something bad happens, like if you get shot or punched, it happens slowly, but it doesn't. When something bad happens it happens fast.

I was driving, grinning ear to ear, compliments still sticking in my ears. Ten and two, I was doing great. But that damn lead foot, my grandmother said my father had it when he first started driving. I paused at the stop sign, looking left and right, before I stared at the road ahead of me. This was the route I usually took, back when I walked home, but I had a car now and I could take a longer route. I just didn't want to get out of that car. My grin lessened to a pleased smile and I turned right.

You wanna know the real reason my grandmother didn't want me driving? Because I would blank out sometimes. This time, was one of those times. I don't mean black out, I mean blank out. I'm still awake, I am still here, but I don't see or hear or feel anything for awhile. Sometimes it lasts a few minutes and one time it lasted for an hour and fifteen minutes. This time, it only lasted for a moment because those fucking bumps along the side of the road brought me back. My eyes went wide as I saw a flash of headlights, the first thing I saw when I came back, and I screamed, jerking the wheel to the left.

It was useless though. My whole body jerked, the seatbelt tightening around my throat as the side of my car was struck by the other. I gasped for air and then a scream managed to slide past my lips as my head hit the glass of my driver's side window. Saliva flew from my mouth as my head bounced around, my mind a whir of blurs, my cell phone, keys and books flying around in the cabin of my car. I grunted as one of my text books landed against the back of my neck, forcing my head towards my chest. So much pain. My head bobbed as the car came to a stop, tilting for a moment before it landed shakily against the pavement.

Upside down.

My eyes struggled to stay open, eyelashes fluttering against my cheek bones. I reached a shaky, blood coated hand, to my buckle and tried to undo it, but putting any pressure on my fingers made me want to scream. I sighed involuntarily and I let my head dangle, finally letting my eyes closed. All I heard was the tick of a failing engine and the cries from the car that had struck me. I just wanted them to be quiet so I could die in peace. I could feel it, the black ink of death sliding across me, ready to take me. And I was welcoming it. I didn't want help, I didn't want to be kept alive through this pain.

My arms slipped down against the roof of my car, the glass digging in to the back of my hands, but I uttered no cry of pain like I wanted to. I kept quiet. Until I heard the calm click of shoes. My eyes painfully opened to slits and I managed to look out my shattered window, seeing strange boots outside my car and what looked like a cape shifting in the breeze around their ankles.

"Giving up so easily," when I didn't answer the figure took a knee and tilted their head down, bright blue eyes finding mine through a draping of black hair. "So, you cannot answer me, do you want help?"

I stared at them for a moment longer and then I grunted, nodding my head. "P-Please."

His eyes sparkled, lids bobbing up gently in excitement. "Well then, let's get you out of here before you are doomed."

I smiled a little but I closed my eyes and then my nose twitched, catching onto something. My eyes opened and I looked around as the strange man was preparing himself to climb into the car with me. When I saw the leaking fluid and the obvious glow of small flames coming from the car pressed against mine I started to panic. I whimpered and looked over at him, reaching for him with broken fingers. His brow furrowed in confusion and then he noticed my panic, but he did not panic, he was as calm as possible, his eyes growing stern and turning on me. When he looked up at me again I grew calm, ease just slipping through me like warmth.

"Panicking will do you no good," he said, giving a light grunt as he tugged on my seat buckle. "Well that's not fair," he muttered.

I didn't see him reach for anything, but I heard the sound of a knife coming from its sheath and tried to find it. But I couldn't see his hands. I couldn't do anything, I was frozen in slight fear of everything around me. It was getting hotter, and I tried to ignore it but there was a distinct glow coming out of the corner of my eye and I knew the worst had happened. The gas had ignited into an inferno. It didn't take long before it consumed the car. It sounded like there was an explosion but I saw no signs of one, just the amber glow of fire stretching through my car.

Cool fingers pressed against my cheek as I started to cry, begging to someone to help me. "I am helping you."

I looked over at him through the tears, my lips coated in salty wetness. My eyes widened a fraction at the sight of him. Once pale of face, he was now a light shade of blue, his irises becoming consumed by a reddish-orange color.

My bottom lip trembled and I started to struggle, hyperventilating. "No," I whimpered. "No, no, no, not you. Please not you!"

His eyes seemed to droop in sadness but I did not change. Until he spoke, until he made me freeze. "Marcine…you must be calm. I know it is…not the sight of a human, but would you rather die of old age than being consumed by an inferno?"

I said nothing, trying not to scream again when he said my name, a name I had not given him, just closed my eyes as he hummed and then my weight dropped against cold arms. My eyes fluttered open as my legs scraped against concrete, slight twinges of pain swimming through my skin until we stopped. He twisted around to crouch on my right side and I stared at him as his skin faded back to porcelain. I blinked a few times and then swallowed, my gut twisting in relief and nervousness, lifting my hand up. My fingers were broken, that was obvious, but I touched him anyway. His cheek was smooth, still cold, but gaining warmth, and I left a long trail of blood and tiny bits of glass across his jaw line.

He reached up and placed my arm at my side, against the grass I didn't know I was laying on and then he smiled. "There, alive."

"Thank you," I managed, a sob welling in my throat. As he stood to leave I reached out, bumping his ankle, remembering I could not take hold of him. But he stopped and looked down at me, looking more magnificent than he did moments ago. "Where are you going?"

His jaw tightened and he ground his teeth for a moment, sighing before he crouched back down to me. "You won't remember me in a few minutes, no need in being here when you pine for answers."

My brow furrowed but I squeaked and straightened it out again at the slight shock of pain. "What do you mean? I'll…I'll remember you."

He smiled. "No you won't…but I will remember you. The only human I have ever saved, nothing can take that back."

I opened my mouth to say something, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment. But my words died on my tongue. Blinking, I looked around, pushing myself up onto my arms. Fire. There was so much fire, just…everywhere. I stumbled to my feet and held my hands up in front of me, turning them over. No scratches, no bruises, but that was my car on fire. How had I gotten to the grass without a single scratch? I looked around, so confused, and then I looked up at the piercing sound of an ambulance coming for me and the scream of my grandmother from the driver's side of her car.


	3. Chapter 3

_**1:06 p.m. – 2/25/14**_

_What can I say, I like anything really unconventional looking. Ghouls, mutants, evil sorcerers with large foreheads and receding hairlines – now that is sexy._

_**Warning (s): **__I adopted dark themes after watching a homicide show named Twisted, all about crazed people. One specifically caught my adoration (though it horrified and disgusted me, it made for good plot use). They were called the School Girl Killers. Interesting, twisted couple that murdered and raped three young girls together. It did, and still does, disgust me, but the way I write everything is open to my story plots. I do not discriminate so no flames against that, if you are a true writer everything is inspiration. The name of my OC belongs to me and only me, it is not a spinoff of the name Marceline, it is simply Marcine. If you see it used anywhere else on here than by me, please let me know.  
_

* * *

Loki.

He, the God of Mischief, snubbed his nose at the humans seated on either side of him.

In the fifteen years he had hidden away on this plain, he has still not tempted to drive a vehicle. He settled for public transportation, though it was usually off putting, he had managed to find a clean bus. He had one small bag of luggage, and it contained his old regal armor. For the public he wore a loose fitting black shirt and a dark pair of jeans with shining dress shoes. He had taken to buying a few sets of new clothes whenever he arrived in a new city.

Eyes flickering around at the humans around him, all unknowingly sitting in the vicinity of a God.

How he loathed being near such beings. In truth, Loki had never disliked humans, he had paid them no mind for the better part of a thousand or so years, but after living amongst them for so long he had grown to realize that humans were as despicable as any creature. Most of them were filled with greed, driven by lust and infested with some sort of insanity. These around him were no different, they were littered with filth, dusty and smelt as though they had not bathed in days.

If only they knew who they were seated near, but then he stopped that thought and remembered that most Americans had little knowledge of him. They did not care for the Gods that once ruled them, only caring for their own technological advancements. That was the one thing he missed about Asgard. Things were simple there, no technology, no battles amongst each other, no famine. The only thing they had to worry about were frost giants and who stole who's cloak when it came to royal engagements. No one was selfish or full of venom, malice.

Until he came along. He knew his thoughts and actions were selfish, but that was as far as the thoughts went. He did not like to dwell on his former life. He tried at all times to keep his mind set on where his next home would be. He had moved placed to place every four or five years when people questioned his shunning of other contact, the way he did not age at all. He kept his age as thirty when questioned, and as a man he knew he should have a gray hair or two. He had none. Sleek black, he would not age for another thousand years. He would be moving a lot it seemed, if he was going to spend the rest of his life shunned by Asgard.

Thor had promised contact every New Years, but Loki had not heard from him since his second year on Earth. He had not disclosed a location, a set point, to Thor and he believed that had made his brother angry. Brother, Loki scoffed in his own ears. They were not related, he did not know why he still called him as such. Loki set his lips firm and tightened his hands grips on his biceps, looking out the window at the passing buildings. They were slowing. Thor was King of Asgard now, a title Loki had fought for most of his life. He despised Thor, great King, God of Thunder, Banisher.

His brow furrowed and he uncrossed his arms, his keen sight catching even the smallest details the bus passed. And hearing more than a mortal could. A scream, a woman's scream no less, and the sight of blood spattered against an old cobblestone alley. He moved up, long fingers coiling around one of the many signal cords lined around the bus. A light ding came from beside the drivers head and the middle aged woman looked up then her foot slid gingerly down onto the brakes, making the bus squeak to a stop. Loki reached down and grabbed his bag from under his seat. The woman driver looked up, obviously ready for a scolding, but he smiled one of those smiles he knew could get him out of such a thing and a blush rose into her cheeks. He pulled the bag around over his shoulder and looked back the way he wanted to go, the bus pulling away from the curb.

A few humans stopped to stare at him, but they quickly moved on with his frosty expression. He started walking, examining everything around him. He had chosen the town of New Orleans as his new place of residence, enjoying the festivities humans created. They were simple and extravagant all at the same time while Asgard festivities were always over extravagant, way more than Loki ever desired or had the patience for. Here he could enjoy but he could stay relaxed all at the same time.

He hummed under his breath slightly, looking around at the old architecture and had to give humans props. Their building techniques were quite beautiful, not as shining and grand as his old home. He pursed his lips when he saw his target, stumbling to a stop before he turned into the alleyway. There, huddled in the corner to his left, was a bruised and battered body. Alongside the smell of trash was the rusty scent of blood. A lot of it. He stopped a decent five feet from her and looked down at his shoes, lifting them up and noticing the red puddle he was standing in. He set his foot back on the ground and looked up, wandering why she was not speaking when her heart beat was so loud in the alleyway.

"I know you are alive," he started, his voice coming out slowly. Bright golden eyes peered up at him. "Now why do you cower? May I assist you?"

Though he was a villain, Loki was always a gentleman. A woman in trouble was not something he could brush away. She lifted her head slightly, her face smeared in black and her lips puffy. Though Loki could not tell if that was the natural set of them or not, they were slightly enticing either way. Reaching up and swiping at the wetness on her cheeks she sat up further, looking at him with shaky eyes.

"I don't trust you."

He laughed, obviously unnerving the small woman. "Well I did not say for you to trust me, I asked if you required assistance. Now do you?"

She stared at him for a long time, her jaw not set in hesitation as he expected, but slight defiance. A front. "If you could help me up…my legs feel like jelly."

Jelly? He took those few steps forward and held a hand out to her. She reached up, lips quirking in the corner, and latched onto his hand. She jerked away her hand at the contact and that made Loki furrow his brow.

"What is wrong?"

"Your hand," she peered up through her brow. "It's freezing cold."

He frowned. Right, he had forgotten about that one little side effect of Earth. "I am sorry, the metal of my seat on the bus was entirely too cold."

She nodded, seemingly believing him and took his hand once more. He lifted her up gently, watching her spindly legs quiver at the weight she put on them. He raised a brow at her attire. She wore a pair of shorts that seemed more like underwear and a shirt that rose up to her navel. Her colors favored him, though she did not know it, the fabrics all a deep green. She looked up at him and let his hand go, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to clear the knots that were there. He reached back and dug in the side pouch of is bag, passing an old, beaten brush to her. After staring at it for a good fifteen minutes she took it with a small smile.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking it and pulling it through her copper colored hair. "I don't usually let men see me like this."

"Why would it matter?"

She looked up at him hesitantly and then shrugged, obviously to herself. "It's not in my profession to look bad in front of men, I have to keep up my appearance to make money."

"So you are a prostitute?"

She scoffed and handed the brush back to him. "No," he pulled his bag to place the brush into it. "I don't do that stuff, Maria and Katie do."

He chuckled at a smart remark. "Well then, what would I call you?"

She stared at him for a moment, forgetting about the pain seeping through her, the blood drying on her skin, and she smiled at the stranger. "You can call me Marcine Lennox."

"Well, Marcine Lennox, I am Loki Laufeyson and it seems I am escorting you where you need to go."

* * *

_I hope I spelt his name right._


	4. Chapter 4

_**6:58 p.m. – 3/2/14 – REVISED: **_

_I meant to get this out sooner but after all of the editing, making sure my facts were straight and a slight redo with the plot I realized it took up more time than I figured. Slightly went OOC with Loki I think, but I did set this fifteen years ahead of the first movie._

_A few things before I go on:_

_Loki has some sort of sympathy for humans, but it is a twisted, typical sympathy for them being a lowly species._

_Loki is all gentleman, as said when he decided to help Marcine. A damsel in distress is not something he would ignore._

_I am using all of my knowledge of partying and New Orleans for this story and I know a lot. I don't party but my friends and family go hardcore and I stick around to remember their night when they can't._

_Loki is going to be a slightly darker person in this story because of my issue with turning things twisted, and maybe a little OOC in this next chapter and then maybe the next but I promise I am keeping him in character for most, if not all, of this story._

_I had to mention these things before I got one of those reviews that say he would never do that. It's my story, if I want to write him that way I will._

* * *

Marcine didn't trust this man.

What kind of name was Loki anyway? It sounded like a name from a fairy tale or something. Marcine walked slightly behind him, enough to where she could stare at him without being noticed. He looked like a typical partier for the New Years that would be coming up in a few weeks. Some people flocked in from out of state to get the good hotel rooms that overlooked the main street of fun, Bourbon Street. Others just flocked in because they liked to get their partying started extra earlier. He looked like he was one that reserved their rooms on Bourbon Street. But he was so clean cut, so unlike most of the people she saw around here.

Most people wore flip flops and cowboy hats (not because of them being some type of redneck, but because they were all high or drunk and those type of people _love _hats). But him…he was different.

"Business or pleasure?"

He looked over his shoulder at her with a strange look on his face. "Excuse me?"

Marcine smiled a little and joined him at his side, her arm brushing against his for a moment. He was still cold. "Business or pleasure?"

"I um…I know what that means but I do not think I should answer."

She chuckled at his nervousness to her words. "I mean are you here for something other than partying? It's getting close to New Years and people flock in early for rooms on Bourbon Street. So, business or pleasure?"

He stared ahead of himself for a moment and then sighed. He didn't have time for this, why he had agreed to escort her to this place she called Trace and Taste was beyond him. But he did answer her. "I arrived in town today to search for a new home. Complications in my previous settings caused me to leave."

He spoke so formally, it was strange, but Marcine had heard it before. It was royal, sort of how the French that mulled around the city spoke. "You have anywhere to stay?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment."

Marcine pursed her lips a little. "Well I can get you a place to stay, if you don't mind being a roommate."

She didn't miss the way his shoulders laced with tension. "I would rather be alone."

"Who the hell would want to be alone," she smiled and stepped in front of him, stopping him before he could walk around her like he blatantly had planned on doing. "You can either take the offer or spend the rest of the year, which is a whole month in the freezing cold mind you, living in the shelter with the other bums. Wanna take my offer or not?"

He stared at her, slightly aggravated judging by the way his jaw was set. "What did you have in mind?"

She let out a breath that ruffled her bangs. "Well, the first option is stay with me. I just mean for a few days, and in that time you can help me clear out my bosses old storage building. It's large, insulated, really a home just full of junk he has been trying to bribe someone into moving. The second option is for you to move in with my co-worker Michael and I don't think you would like that because he is a little on the flamboyant side and might try to seduce you."

His face drew a deadpan. "I am not turned on by men."

Marcine grinned. "I didn't peg you for someone that was, but those are your options. Now if you want to pass up these offers, like I said, you can spend the rest of the month in the Salvation Army shelter. So, what do you want to do?"

Loki stared down at the young woman, contemplating just turning her down and going to huddle in the bog. But that was not exactly a pleasant thought. This was a strange offer. A young woman offering her home to stranger, a stranger who happened to be a full grown man, so easily and confidently. She must be a very trusting person, he might have to break her of that if he chose to take the offer of staying in her home. Keeping his secrets might be difficult, but he knew he could at least manage them. The more time he spent in Midgard, the more his true blood was weaned out of him, so that was truly becoming less of a problem. But sometime he couldn't help himself and used his powers in the privacy of a home he called his. He could practice when she was asleep or when she wasn't around. Moving in with a homosexual that might try to seduce him was not on his list of experiences he wanted to have.

He sighed, reluctantly still, and then smiled a little. "I guess, if you do not truly mind, I can move in with you."

She held up a finger. "Until we clear out the building, and I still have to talk to Marcus about it. He has no other takers that I know of, it's not a truly desirable arrangement for the sane. You mind doing some heavy lifting?"

He shook his head and gestured for her to walk, desperate to get out of this sun. "I do not, now shall we continue?"

She nodded softly and started walking again. "I know what you're thinking, how come I am so trusting to a stranger?"

"It passed through my mind," he hummed, looking up as he heard whooping from a balcony.

Above them a woman was obviously drunk, and she had her shirt raised to her chin, showing her breasts to the crowd of men below her. Marcine cheered and raised her fist in the air along with the group of men, gaining a round of cheers of her own because of her support. The woman on the balcony lowered her shirt and pointed down at Marcine, a sloppy grin plastered to her face and she screamed.

"Thanks babay!"

"No problem," Marcine screamed back, laughing lightly as she gained a slightly amused look from Loki. "What, gotta support my drunk women, they tip awesomely when they come in."

He smiled a little wider. "You are truly an interesting young woman."

"Thank you," she bowed her head a little and sighed as they were engulfed in shade from a passing cloud. "I trust because of my grandmother. She taught me that I shouldn't discriminate against everyone and you…you were kind to me when I needed it most back there. You couldn't be a bad person."

He stayed quiet for a long moment and then he looked down at her. "What happened to get you into that alley?"

She didn't say anything, she just set her jaw and kept her eyes forward. So she didn't want to talk about it. He didn't figure she would, but he could ask anyway. So much blood and there was still more on her thighs, but it was dried and flaking, a red tint was still there in the form of smeared fingerprints. She was still slightly shaken, but she seemed like she was able to put it away inside of her. Like he had with his own darkness. He peered at her out of the corner of his eye and momentarily admired her jaw until she turned right.

Loki paused at the threshold of Trace and Taste, hearing and feeling the thumping of sleeze music. The doors swayed shut behind her but he saw her pause, waiting for him on the other side. He followed her into the small establishment, being engulfed in darkness and then star shaped beams of lights from rotating globes above the small stages placed throughout the store. It smelt of estrogen, sex and the unmistakable stench of old latex.

To say Loki was disgusted was an understatement.

"I know it's not the most desirable place," Marcine started when she caught the look of disdain on his face as he looked around the room. "But I can't get hired by anyone else in the city."

He hummed a little and kept to her side. "I would try and find something more appealing."

"As I said," she opened a door to the right of the bar and waved her fingers at the bartender. "No one else would hire me. I don't have sex with anyone and if I get touched Sebastian tosses them out. I get to keep my pride and look good while doing it."

"Exposing yourself for money," he muttered, eyeing the outfit haphazardly hanging off of her.

She reached up and rubbed her arm. "This was the first time I was going to wear somethin like this…but no, I don't expose myself. I try to cover as much of myself up as possible without resorting to a turtle neck."

They traveled down the a black walled corridor, passing doors that were cracked, red light streaming through to the concrete hall floor. Loki's ears pricked up when he heard a few rapid moans but satiated his interest in watching Marcine's hips. She paused in front of a green painted door and produced a key from somewhere, opening the door and gesturing for him to go ahead of her. He bowed his head slightly and stepped into the room, situating himself in one of the corners while she locked the door behind her.

"I wouldn't have brought you back here if I didn't think you would get pounced on back there in the main room," Marcine mumbled as she walked into a smaller room off to the right.

Loki watched her back as she obviously unknowingly forgot he could see her. Her back was riddled with scars, made prominent by the contrast of her skin in the light of a violet bulb. She paused where she was and then turned around, but Loki looked away before she could notice his eyes on her. He waited until he heard the soft click of the door shutting before he looked back. He was not amused by the silence around him, and he was managing to keep the running of water and the cries of ecstasy coming from outside the walls encasing him.

What was he doing here? Why had he followed her? Oh right, a warm place to sleep. He was becoming more human every day, reliant on the practical appliances used. He looked up when he heard the door to the bathroom open. Marcine stepped out in normal clothes; a pair of jeans and a black, form fitting, shirt. She scrubbed the water left in the tips of her hair and then tied the heavy mass up into a sloppy bun, grabbing a bag from one of the love seats in the room.

"Let's go talk to Marcus before we go," she mumbled, sliding out of the door and waiting for him to exit.

He did so silently, slightly unnerving her at the noiseless moves of his steps. There should have been at least a light thump when his shoe hit the floor. She watched his back for a moment while his eyes trailed down the hallway and then shut the door, locking it.

* * *

"No, I will get to you when I can. You're just going to have to have some patience."

Marcine rasped her knuckles lightly on the open door as she and Loki approached it, Loki lingering a ways back but still visible. The man sitting at the desk looked like your typical, run of the mill, Mafioso. Slick hair, not from gel, he just hadn't taken a shower in four or five days. Loki could smell the reek of cologne coming from him through the hallway and it just got worse as the man waved them in. Plastered across the walls were posters of scantily clad women, all having autographs along some corners or across their breasts. Loki raised a brow to some of them, simply staring out of disdain but he looked curious and that caught Marcine's eye for some reason.

"You can't just drop it off out front, I don't need competition seeing my wares," the man looked up at Marcine and gestured for her to sit, raising a finger at Loki, making him pause. The mans eyes, a piercing emerald much like Loki's old armor, were familiar. "Don't worry about it today Jeremy," he muttered. "I'll call you back tonight," and he hung up, placing the phone on his desk as he laced his fingers together, eyes still boring into Loki's. "And who is your friend, Marcine?"

Marcine smiled. "This is Loki…he uh…I got attacked on the streets and Loki helped me."

"I see," Loki didn't miss the flicker of amusement in those eyes. "And why is he here?"

"Well um, I – we – were wondering if you had any other takers for the buil –"

"It's yours," Marcus stated before she could even finish, eyes finally flickering to hers and Loki released the tension building up in his lungs. "but I would like to speak to Loki alone please."

Marcine blinked, looking between the two in front of her with a confused expression, but she nodded. "O….k? I'll just go wait by the front door."

Loki did not move his eyes to her, only moving his stance when the door clicked shut. "Now Icarus, this form does not suit you," he tsked, dropping his bag to the ground. "I would have expected something more…suiting to your vanity."

Marcu – er, Icarus – stood, a golden hue settling across his body. His cheeks rose, his hair grew, the gray easing out to make room for the rich brown. His clothing shifted like heat rising from the hood of a car into golden wrapped armor, his shoulder plates black, feet bare. His eyes grew dark, the white dispersing and the irises glowing green.

"Loki," his voice was deep, echoing slightly. "Son of O-"

"No," Loki shook his head. "Not Son of Odin. Why are you here, Icarus? What does the man of wax have to tie him to a…slum, like this?"

Icarus shrugged, a grin coming across his face. "Humans create the most amusing establishments don't they? This is what they call a strip club, women parade around in skimpy outfits, letting men stuff pay into their underwear. I find it funny, it seems you however find it disgusting."

Loki sneered. "Obviously. Humans in general disgust me, but this is a step up on that hatred. It's disgraceful, they have no respect for common decency."

"And yet," Icaurs stepped around his desk, clasping his hands behind his back. "Here you are, trailing behind one of my dancers."

"She wears acceptable clothing," Loki mused.

Icarus stared at the God of Mischief, watching the expression wavering on his face. "Why are you here Loki?"

Blue eyes met his green ones and Loki closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose. "The first settlement I chose…a human man tried to attack me on the streets. He just," Loki opened his eyes, looking more annoyed than anything. "He aggravated me so much, I used my magic on him. A few humans saw me and I had to leave. They were beginning to question my aging anyway."

"Loki, God of Mischief, losing his temper," Icarus tsked. "Now _that _was something I would have enjoyed seeing. Tell me Loki, how are you still free after fifteen years on Midgard? I would believe Heimdall would have seen you by now with his omniscient sight."

Loki looked up under his brow. "Apparently you underestimate my powers. I can remain hidden from even him with my abilities."

Icarus gave him a mock haughty look, shaking his head slightly and gaining a smile from Loki. "There we go, even though you are over a thousand years old I can still make you smile."

Loki rolled his eyes. "You are my favorite uncle, even if we are not related," Loki muttered.

Icarus cocked his head to the right a little. "Is there something you wish to share, Loki?"

Loki immediately shook his head. "I do not wish to share anything with you," he hissed, his guard immediately starting up again.

Icarus shook his head at Loki's ignorance. After a moment of silence Icarus looked back up to Loki. "You know…Thor still searches for you."

Loki did not lift his head. "Why?"

"Because you are his brother, Loki."

"I am nothing to him…"

Icarus shook his head. "For a God, you are exceptionally stupid," he waved off the glare he was given and moved around his desk, his form shifting back to that of a sleeze man. "Leave now, I have things to attend to. You may have the building, but I have one stipulation."

Loki paused in his reach for his bag, his eyes staying on the ground, hair falling over his face. He closed his eyes and grabbed the back, brushing his hair back gently before he settled his eyes on Icarus. "And what is that?"

"You keep her safe," Loki watched the light in his eyes recede, the his left eye completely being swallowed in darkness. "If anything happens to her because of your presenc-"

"You'll kill me," Loki mused. "What is she to you? A lover?"

Icaurs scoffed. "No, not in the slightest. But I have been here for long enough to have raised that child. Her parents were close friends. Be careful with her."

"I do not intend to hurt her."

"You may not intend to," Icarus inhaled deeply, the black being swallowed into his pupils. "But knowing your reputation as I do, you will. You may not intend to stay with her for a long time, but a word of caution. Marcine gets attached easily to anyone she comes in contact to. Especially someone _safe_."

Loki stared at the door for a long moment. "I am not a safe man."

"To her you are, I know that girl, I know the looks she gives and she gives it to you. Keep her safe, Loki."

Loki stared for a moment longer before he grinned at Icarus. "Cannot promise."

Icarus narrowed his eyes. "Watch your back, Loki."

The God of Mischief waved his hand, opening the door a moment later. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

* * *

_I got off character with Loki a little bit, sorry about that. The ending did not come out as I wanted it to._


	5. Chapter 5

_**12:52 p.m. – 3/17/14**_

_All I can think of when writing chapters of this story is 'Not fair, this is just totally not fair; why am I doing this to myself?' My own fanfiction has me jealous. I'm already having fun typing these ups. Loki is a very complex character to write at this point. And I don't care who is the older brother originally, Loki is a little older in my version._

_Thank you wineandwhiskey for the immediate support:) it is so much appreciated._

_**Icarus: **__The man who flew on wings of wax, boastful was he and thought he could touch the sky. But when he claimed the sun as his prize, it melted his wings and he fell from the sky._

_**Viola: **__an instrument of the violin family, larger than the violin and tuned a fifth lower._

* * *

_Asgard was a wondrous kingdom at night. _

_The lights keeping the streets below the castle reflected against the gold pigment of the buildings and made everything look well…magical. But the streets were quiet at night and that made for a peaceful kingdom. _

_A peaceful kingdom meant a sleeping Loki._

_Until a knock came at the door. It took a few more knocks to get Loki to actually wake up. He groaned and shielded his eyes from the beam of light coming from the now open door. Thor stood in the door way, clutching a pillow to his chest and muttering to himself. Loki grumbled and pulled his pillow over his head, trying to muffle the annoyance of his brother._

"_Loki…"_

_No._

"_Loki," Thor insisted, looking over his shoulder at the sound of a thump echoing through the hallways. He turned back to his sleeping brother, swaddled in emerald satin, heart hammering in his chest. "Loki come on, let me sleep with you," he urged._

"_No, go back to your chambers Thor," Loki muttered, pulling his pillow from his head and tucking it back under his head. "I am trying to get some rest, I have viola lessons in the morning."_

"_Come on Loki, please!"_

"_You're Thor, you shouldn't be scared to sleep by yourself."_

"_Last time, I promise."_

_Loki was two years old than Thor, who was eight. This was just ridiculous, to Loki anyway. After a few moments of silence, Loki pulled his arm away from where it was draped across his eyes and saw Thor standing in the doorway, the lights from the candelabras placed through the hallways illuminating him and making Loki's irises sting. He sighed and covered his eyes again, pulling the blankets down to his waist, a little further at his right side._

"_Fine, just don't tell Dad, and shut the damn door."_

_After some awkward shuffling through the dark Thor was settled in on his side of the bed and Loki was trying to get back to sleep, reciting spells he had learned from Heimdall the previous morning. The words the spells consisted of always seemed to lull even Loki's active and imaginative mind since he had started learning them; he had began learning when he was six from the guardian of the Rainbow Bridge when he was six and his mother, Frigga, had witnessed his magical abilities upon his aiding her in the kitchen. But tonight, this just wouldn't work, seeing as Thor had a habit of whispering to himself and it sounded like a bumblebee was being held in his hands. _

"_Thor…please, silence."_

_He ceased his mutterings and Loki sighed, settling into his pillow and he began to recite a fire conjuring spell in his head. After finishing that, he moved on to an evaporating – it was not what you think it is – spell, then he felt a strange pressure against his back. He faded back into awareness when he realized it was Thor pressed against his back and he tensed up, his nose twitching in slight aggravation._

"_Goodnight Loki," Thor whispered._

_Loki hesitated, his eyes fluttering open for a moment before he squeezed them shut. "Goodnight, Thor."_

* * *

Loki's eyes eased open, coming into contact with the underside of the pillow he had stuffed over his face. He closed his eyes and just let himself slip towards sleep again, making it to the halfway point before he sighed and reached up, pulling the pillow from his face. Every night, or rather morning, at around 4:15, Loki would wake up. The period in which he stayed awake and mobile varied but never strayed from fifteen to twenty minutes. The awakenings never really had a purpose to Loki, he did nothing productive, nothing ever woke him like a bad dream.

Except for tonight.

It was the third time Loki had dreamt of a memory involving Thor since he had been on Midgard.

The memories were never outstanding, important or anything like that, they were usually something meaningless like a moment from a dinner spent in the dining hall for the royal family or the last one where he and Thor had been discussing what to do about their mothers birthday. Loki was sick of those dreams, he was sick of thinking about his former brother, about his past life, about everything that happened fifteen years ago.

He had been trying to forget for fifteen years.

Loki sighed and pushed himself towards the edge of the bed he was lying on. Marcine had managed to put him up in her spare bedroom. It was cold and nearly soundproof, just how Loki liked it. He pushed himself up from the bed and walked to the door, opening it slowly so as to remain quiet, and then made his way into the living room. It was small and pin neat, very calm and lightly colored. He stepped over to the window and looked down to the street below the apartment they were in.

The streets below were cleaner than he had expected, but there were still homeless men and women wondering up and down the streets, sleeping on door stoops and eating out of the garbage. Loki was disgusted with the process, but e would not complain, Marcine would get flustered and then that would just be one more aggravating thing for him to deal with. She had gotten upset when he said he would just sleep on the fold out couch in her living room, then forced him to take the spare bedroom. Of course, he wasn't complaining, he hadn't wanted to spend the night on a mortals couch, but he supposed he just had to take what he could get for the moment.

He shook his head and reached up, cradling his forehead in his hand as his brow furrowed painfully. He was thinking too hard about everything right now, he needed to just calm his mind. He had to do something…a smirk played on his lips and he swallowed pulling his hand away from his face. His eyes glazed over gently in red, his fingertips fading from a pale fleshy color to a cerulean blue. Frost began to coat his finger tips, his lips moving sharply as he tried to keep the spell stable. Frost Giants couldn't just create ice like this, it took practice, and Loki had the practice plus the knowledge of wizardry. He had been working on controlling this ability for months. His heritage peeking through his weakening state of mind and body was beginning to make him unstable, physically and mentally.

He heard something snap behind him and his eyes widened, the frost fading in a snap from his fingers. He blinked a few times, feeling the coloring fade back to a rather plain blue and he looked over his shoulder. Marcine was frozen mid-step, fingers holding onto the edge of her coffee table that had a cup knocked over on it. Her face was frozen in a cringe, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before she looked over at Loki.

She smiled and then straightened her back, tucking her right hand behind her back and reaching up to brush her bushy bangs from her face. Her hair was tied back but being asleep had poofed it all up to look like a bee hive hair cut. "Oh well hi there…I hadn't expected you to be up…" she looked down shyly and then her eyes widened and she crouched down, wrapping her arms around herself. "Son of a bitch," the blush was evident on her cheeks even in the dim light.

Loki laughed. For the first time, in more than fifteen years, he laughed a genuine laugh. And that made Marcine look up with doe eyes, fascinated by the sound of his laughter. It took her a few moments but she managed to swallow down her embarrassment and stand. She was wearing just her undergarments, forgetting that she had a house guests. This was just embarrassing, and now he was laughing at her? That didn't make her feel any better about this situation.

"What's so funny," she pouted, standing straight and crossing her arms over her chest.

He shook his head, trying to reel in his amusement. This was just too good; humans may have been a lower species, but at least they were entertaining. "Nothing," he waved a hand. "Why are you awake?"

That distracted her enough to drop her arms. "Well…I always get up at this time," she hesitated and then walked over to her couch, digging around in a laundry basket and finding a pair of shorts. It wasn't enough, but it was better than showing everything. "What are you doing up?"

He didn't answer her and just turned back to the window, staring out of it as the suns light was beginning to faintly peek through the clouds. So early? No…something else, but to what, Loki had no idea. But it bothered him. Of course something strange would be happening now. But Loki was once again distracted by the young woman in the room. He looked back at her as she cleared her throat and saw a small smile playing at her lips.

"You drink coffee?"

* * *

Loki had to admit, Marcine was a particularly interesting specimen to watch.

She moved fluently, accurately. He could see how her muscles were tense beneath her flesh, obviously a reaction when in company of others; her mind was conditioned to make sure she did not falter in her movements, to make sure she did not slip up and embarrass herself with the wrong type of movement in front of someone else. Loki admired the control for a moment and then remembered his days under Odin's 'oppression' and scowled. Had she conditioned herself, or had someone else done this to her?

"You have…_excellent _control of your body," he mused aloud, seeing her shoulders tense further.

"Th-Thank you," she muttered, reaching over from the coffee maker and opening a cabinet. She pulled out a small red square and pulled open the flaps on the top of it, spooning up a few hefty grams of coffee. "I…I try to make a painful point of keeping myself under control when I'm in front of others, no matter what. It's a social phobia."

Loki nodded, watching the way her muscles curled beneath her skin as she moved to plug in the coffee maker. She seemed to have forgotten about the scars across her back again, or maybe she didn't care, either way Loki now saw the extent of the damage and was genuinely curious as to what could have happened to her. They looked like burns now that he was closer, before they had just looked like simple cuts. He opened his mouth to ask but clamped it shut when she turned to him, a small smile on her lips as she leaned back against the counter.

He waited a moment and then took in a breath, his skin itching. "I would like to begin work today," he said simply.

She smiled wider, nodding slowly. "We can do that around nine. I have a few errands I need to make first. You uh…well I guess you could stay here…"

"You do not want me to…"

She shook her head and then realized the mistake she made and then her eyes grew wide. "Oh no," she took a few steps towards him. "It's not that I don't trust you or anything, I would think you would be bored here all by yourself."

"I could go out," he insisted. He needed to be alone, needed to practice his magic. "I will be fine, I will just be getting in your way, trust me."

She hesitated and then nodded, smiling a little again. "Alright…" her face contorted into confusion for a moment as a beep came from behind her and then her mouth popped into an O and she whipped around, pulling two mugs from the cabinet above her sink. "H-How do you like your coffee?"

After a moment of watching her pouring a cup for herself, she left it plain and black, sipping at it gently while she waited for his answer. "Black…just….plain black."

* * *

The palace was dusted with an air of silence, grief. Frigga stood at the edge of a balcony, her fingers strumming gently on the side of a chalice in her hand, the wine sloshing silently inside with her ministrations. She sighed and lifted the chalice to her lips, closing her eyes and shaking her head as the wine drenched her tongue in a sweet-tangy flavor and then she reached up, wiping a droplet from the corner of her mouth. She looked back down across her – or rather, her sons – kingdom and let out another sigh of discontent.

"Mother…"

She turned to the door, seeing her son standing there, his mortal consort at his side. "Yes dear?"

Jane looked up to her husband, her right hand coming up to clench the fabric across her belly. Thor was hesitant to tell his mother, hesitant to accept this fact, but he swallowed that slight twinge of fear and looked his mother in the eye, jaw set tight and back straight. Jane followed his example, not meeting Frigga's eyes though; that was not her place.

"I have just been warned," Thor started and then stopped, trying to piece together his resolve as it dispersed. "Early this morning, on Midgard, there were two energy spikes detected."

Frigga's heart fluttered and she set the goblet of wine down on the steps beside her feet, hands gathering up her skirt as she hurried to her son. "Please," she whispered. "Tell me, is it him?"

Thor closed his eyes. "The two spikes were within miles of each other, both on different wave lengths but one stronger than the other. One was an unknown source…and the latter…it was indeed Loki."

Frigga felt her heart swell but kept the smile from her face, taking two steps back and nodding. "I…I have to go find him, I have to see him."

It was Jane to react this time, jogging to catch Frigga, who looked distraught as the young mortal grabbed a hold of her. "Lady Frigga…the former energy spike is a dangerous one," she looked to Thor, holding his gaze. "Of course, Loki's was stronger," she looked back to the queen. "But the other is still dangerous and unknown. Please, for my and your son's sake and peace of mind, please stay here while we handle this."

Frigga stepped back from Jane, looking between the two in the room with her. "Why is everyone treating me as though I am too fragile to take care of myself," she whispered.

Thor stepped down from the doorway, holding out his hands. "Mother, we are just cautious at the rise of a new sorcerer…or whatever this is. And the fact that they are so close to Loki…we know he would not harm you, but this other could and we do not want to risk the chance of losing you as we have lost father."

At the mention of Odin, Frigga's own resolve shattered and tears welled up in her ducts. She looked down, squeezing her eyes shut as her chin rested against her right shoulder. They were right, they were both right. She was acting too much on instinct, she wasn't thinking.

"I just want to see my baby boy," her voice was barely above a whisper.

Thor's chest tightened and he held a hand out for Jane. She nodded and joined him at his side, laying a hand across his chest as she held onto his waist. "Mother…I am sorry…"

Frigga shook her head, taking in a deep breath and wiping away the tears across her cheeks. "No," her jaw was set tight, stern. "No, I am sorry. I keep forgetting…" her lower lip trembled for a moment. "I keep forgetting that Midgard is dangerous now that your father…is gone," she took a deep breath and nodded, looking up to her son. "I want to see Heimdall."

* * *

_BOOM! Odin is dead. If I haven't made it clear yet, the Avengers and Thor: the Dark World haven't happened. I might go into the Dark World – of course in my own way – but I doubt it. I have enough of my plot lined up in my head that I may have time for it. I am going to be using plenty of myths in this and the story is going to be a long one. Maybe longer than 50 chapters. I have 23 of them typed up already. _

_If anyone has any ideas they would like to share review or you can PM me. Remember, R&R either way, flames and praise alike are welcome._


	6. Chapter 6

_**10:59 p.m. – 3/29/14**_

_I feel really good about this story. I've never wrote a character like Loki, meaning how formal and everything he is. Usually I get the bloodthirsty mutant, or the filthy redneck, I even got a wasteland warrior and I still haven't dealt with this. I am well aware Loki talks very formally but I just can't get that meticulous, it would just take the fun out of what I have planned for this plot so I don't need any flames about his speech. I've already got a fucking PM about it. If you haven't noticed already, I don't have the cleanest mouth but I know how to talk proper and all of that stuff (years of dealing with my mother's ex husband who was all about some etiquette)._

_Well this turned into a long authors note._

_Anyway, R&R please review, flames (except if they are about Loki's speech) and praise alike are welcome. Any suggestions you have are welcome as well._

* * *

Loki stared up at the high arched ceiling, the gold shimmering just like it always had. He lay flat and prone on the bed, fingers running across silk sheets and hearing the chimes of bells below him in the kingdom, signaling a funeral. A beautiful day for one; the sky was a brilliant blue, one lone cloud floating across the mountain tops in the distance. The larks and finch's flew past the windows, calling to each other and twirling around their mates. Loki looked to the window, shadows dancing across him as the long curtains billowed in the wind ever present this high up in the castle.

The wind smelt of something sweet.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, not daring to sit up or the illusion would be broken.

He opened his eyes again and lifted his head slightly to the door and seeing Frigga walking into the room. She paused at the door, reaching back with her right hand as the left stayed curled just below her bosom to shut the door. She clasped both hands in front of her, sighing as she began to walk around the bed. She reached out, her fingers tracing across the sheets, moving dangerously close to his left arm, and then her fingertips ghosted through his arm. Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, moving his arm out of her reach and then the image dispersed, golden waves forcing back the drab appearance of Marcine's apartment.

After another moment of lying on the bed he was given, Loki sat up and pulled his legs over the edge of the bed, balancing his elbows on his knees and then cradling is head in his hands. Was Loki Laufeyson losing it? He had been doing this for a month or so, using his magic to see into his old room. It was so simple at first. He could remember the sounds, the taste of everything, the smells and the feel of it all. The first time he had conjured the image, his whole home had changed – on the inside, on the outside it remained a drab yet slightly extravagant home – and he had almost smiled. Then his mother, Frigga, had walked into his envisioning of his room. Loki hadn't thought of her, he hadn't wanted to. After observing her, after several attempts at touching her and just having her go through him, he realized that it wasn't simply an illusion.

Loki had found another gateway into Asgard.

Of course, he couldn't use it. He couldn't try and go through this portal, but he could try and enjoy what of his mothers presence he could. Couldn't touch her, couldn't talk to her. There was no point.

But he did it anyway.

Loki took in a deep breath and lifted his head, looking around the room as he let his hands dangle between his knees, and then he pushed himself to his feet. Marcine would be home soon, or so she had said. It was close to nine, she had promised no later, but judging by how flighty she was (meaning she was more blonde than a blonde) it would be a minute before she got home. She hadn't said where she was going, leaving him with simply 'errands'. And she didn't look happy about what she was doing.

Loki stepped into her small living room, staring out the window and wandering how much longer he had to be here. Loki was never one to be comfortable in these situations, in such a confined space with actual rules. Though they were unspoken, Loki knew she did not want him to leave. What if he were gone when she returned? Loki felt as though she would be devastated. Why did he care? He didn't, but he didn't want to deal with the way she got so flustered. He was in no mood.

As soon as that thought flitted across his mind, the door creaked open.

Loki looked to his right, hands clasped behind his back as he waited and then he saw Marcine cradling a cardboard box with white paper boxes inside of it across her right arm and her purse and a bottle of something in her other hand. To say she had her hands full was a bit of an understatement. Loki took one quick side step of the brown loveseat between them and took the box of something from her hands. She looked up at him with wide doe eyes, not noticing him until he moved.

Then she smiled.

She smiled and Loki froze, eyes locked on her for an undetermined about of time. At some point she began to speak and he had to ask her to repeat herself. She chuckled a little and reached up, pushing her bangs from her face. "How about we go set everything down in the kitchen first?"

He nodded and let her pass before he followed behind her, noticing the way her shirt rode up in the back. And then he forced his eyes above her head (it wasn't truly that hard, he was a good foot or two taller than her) while she led him into the kitchen. He set the box on the kitchen counter while she set her purse and the bottle of something on the small table they had sat at earlier this morning. She tossed her keys onto the table and took a deep breath, turning around to him and holding up an oddly long key.

"And what is that?"

She giggled lightly. "It's the key to your new home silly," she reached out abruptly, giving Loki no time to figure out he could pull his hand from hers, and she flipped his hand over, dropping the key into it and forcing his fingers to curl over it. "After I went to the bank and the supply store I went over to Trace and Taste to get that key," she explained, walking over to the sink and pulling her sunglasses from her hair. "My legs are killing me, but I wanted to know if you wanted to come back to the club with me."

"Why would I want to do that?"

She shrugged and looked over at him, turning on the water. "I have a shift tonight and I won't be back until sometime around one, when the club closes, and seeing as I now know you don't sleep until like midnight…"

Loki raised an eyebrow at this. "And how do you know that?"

"I could hear you moving around in the room last night," she explained simply. "It's ok, I don't sleep either. I have horrible insomnia. Anyway, I figured you would rather come hang around there than sit here and be bored all night."

"I would rather not go to that place again," he mumbled in an aggravated tone.

"I know you and Marcus get along. He asked about you when I came in."

That really caught Loki's attention and he settled in the same chair he had sat in this morning. "And what exactly did he ask about?"

She shrugged, drying off her hands with a paper towel. "Simple things like," she tossed the paper towel into the trash can. "Were you settling in well, were you giving me any trouble…"

"Trouble?"

Marcine looked over at him, looking as though she were hesitant to answer him directly. "Loki…" his name tasted strange on her tongue. "Women don't just invite strange men to come and stay with them, I figured that would be a basic rule you knew," she hesitated in answering him honestly. "But…I don't know, I trust you. You don't seem like a truly untrustworthy person in my mind. Marcus was just curious to see if you had tried anything and I reassured him you hadn't."

"Well I would expect him to know I would never do anything," Loki grumbled.

Marcine looked at him curiously this time. "Have you and Marcus…met each other before?"

Well, Loki actually found himself tongue tied. He stared at her blankly, cursing himself a thousand times over in his head at how stupid he was. How had he slipped up like that? He hadn't said anything permanent, but it was all implied right there. _This was a bad idea_…

Loki reached up and ran his hand down his face. "Um…yes, Marcus and I met through my father," now that wasn't really a lie, of course, she didn't know the truths behind it. "You could say he is like an uncle to me."

Marcine smiled a little. "Then you wouldn't mind just spending a few hours with him," she frowned a little. "Or you could stay here again…"

His eyes ran over her, saw the way she was twitching and came to a strange realization. "You want me to come."

Marcine looked up at him with impossibly wide eyes and then she blushed, her cheeks turning a delicious shade of crimson, almost making Loki chuckle, but he wanted to watch her unfold in front of him. He took a sick pleasure in watching her squirm like this. She stuttered a few times, muttering small curses when she couldn't get the words out and then she finally took in a deep breath, her eyes setting on him sternly while he only stared at her with a slightly smug look on his face.

"Yes, I want you to come."

One last question to go. "Why?"

She blushed further, if that were even possible. "I just do…" she muttered.

He chuckled then, eyes still watching her as she stared at him in curiosity. "I see…"

He was doing it on purpose, enjoying the way she squirmed and twitched. "Come on, you know what you're doing," she whined, stomping her right foot a little.

"And what is it I am doing?"

"You know exactly what you're doing," she muttered. "Come on, are you going or not? You don't have to, I just thought I would ask. Either way I have to go in tonight"

Loki hummed and then stood. "I think I will accompany you," it's not like he actually wanted to stay home alone again. If he stayed home, he would get stuck get stuck on seeing his mothers face and he would reciprocate those desires with another insight to his old room. And that would just drive him mad. "As you said before, I do not sleep well at night and it would be nice to not spend it…alone."

Marcine smiled at him. "Alrighty then, you won't have to stay on the dance floor, I'm sure Marcus will eventually take you somewhere."

That could go two ways…

* * *

Loki listened as Marcine stumbled around her room, hearing the way she cursed about something he couldn't see. He was waiting for her in the living room, growing lightly impatient but not so much as to where he would say something. She hadn't been in there for too long, twenty minutes at the most, but Loki never had a lot of patience. On more than one occasion he had cursed out his tutor whenever they were late to his lessons. He, the child, had been on time while they had done whatever they had wanted to on their way to the lessons.

"So what do you think?"

Loki blinked out of his reverie, lifting his right hand up and running his knuckles on the underside of his chin, looking towards the hallway. He paused all movement, eyes running over her slowly, noticing the way she would tense under his prolonged gaze. She was wearing a tight black corset with red lace trim and tight red leggings. Her hair was curled perfectly and doused in glitter. His eyes met hers after a moment and saw how self conscious she was under his gaze and suppressed a chuckle, waving his hand at her while he looked back towards the carpet under his feet.

"You look fine, a bit too revealing for my taste," his teeth clamped down on his tongue.

She shuffled for a moment, reaching up and scratching at the back of her head. "Well from a man's stand point, do you think I can pull it off?"

He hesitated and then nodded, looking back over at her. "Yes, I do."

She smiled widely and then it dropped gently. "Um, can I ask you one more thing?"

He bit his tongue again and then took in a deep breath. "Yes."

She took a few steps towards him and turned, lifting her hair up and revealing the tender slope of her neck and the tops of her shoulder blades. "Can you…can you see my scars?"

His eyes flickered down for a moment, knowing she didn't want to talk about this – and honestly he didn't want to either – but then he looked at her back. He sighed and pushed himself up, pushing her away from the chair gently and then he took her hair from her hands, his free hand coming up. He ran his fingertips over the top of the scar he could see and he pressed down on it slightly, eliciting a perfect little gasp from her lips.

"What happened," it didn't sound like a question, it sounded more like a command.

Her mouth was set into a firm line for a moment and then she cleared her throat a little, stepping away from his hands, her hair swaying across her back. She didn't want to talk about this, but she supposed it was hard to ignore now that he had seen one of them. She wouldn't have said anything if she hadn't needed to but last time she had gone on her shift Marcus said someone complained about the scars 'marking up her tight body' and she had sworn she hadn't left one exposed. She needed someone else's point of view, a man's.

"When I was fifteen I got into a car accident..." she swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers coming up in front of her and pressing against each other as she stared at the wall in front of her. "I was driving home and I took another route, a longer one so I could just…_drive_," she smiled at the faint rush of the engine, then she shook her head, looking down. "I don't know what happened, it's like my memories were just cut out. Next thing I know, I'm lying in the grass as far from my car as possible, watching it burn with no cuts or burns like I should have had. But I had these scars to prove something had happened. I'm terrified of cars now, but I'm more terrified of the mystery to where my memories went."

Loki stared at her back for a long time, his eyes wide and his hands held out at his sides, his body frozen completely. "H…How many years ago was this?"

She looked back at him. "Um…fifteen years ago."

He stared at her blankly after that. Fifteen years ago…she didn't remember…she was the young woman he had saved the first day he had been on Midgard. She was the one that he couldn't forget. She was the one that had promised she would remember him. He had wiped her memories because of her catching a glimpse of his frost giant appearance. He remembered not wanting to do that, he had remembered wanting her to remember him. He had wanted someone to remember him like he was a hero, even if it was a human that had no ties to him.

"Loki?"

He faded back to reality, his eyes finding hers. "I am sorry…I just…I don't know what that was exactly."

_Guilt._

"Y-You scared me for a moment."

_Tell Her._

"I did not mean to," he should leave.

_Admit._

"It's ok, the information is a little crazy isn't it?"

_Tell her what you did._

"Yes, quite so," he couldn't leave.

_Guilty as charged._

"Well I guess we should get going."

_You've dug your own grave._

"I supposed we should."

Loki could never leave Marcine, he couldn't leave her like he had before. He would have to blank her memories again, he couldn't do that to her. He had done it to so many people in the town he had previously lived in, why was she so different? For the first time, Loki felt guilty for hurting someone.

* * *

_What you guys think? Loki isn't going soft by any means, but I have to have him slip up a little for the relationship to bloom. Once it happens, he'll be in sort of character. More than he has been with my own little – or major, depends on how you look at it – twist. It won't be long before they 'hook up' so to speak *grins mischievously* I hope you guys enjoy. R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcome. _


	7. Chapter 7

_**1:34 p.m. – 4/1/14**_

_Hope you guys enjoy this. Marcine is a stripper, but she of course doesn't let anyone get too handsy with her. And I pretty much just through Loki under the bus at the end of this chapter, just a warning._

_R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcome._

_Marcus – Icarus_

* * *

Loki's mouth was set in a firm line as he sat in a small chair in the corner of the thumping club, the vibrations causing his head to thump in time with the beat. Marcus was watching a dancer – that's what he called them, opposed to Loki's term, whores – with particular interest, he called her Precious. She was attractive for a human female, having the curves she needed to get the tips thrown at her feet. The top and skirt she wore were covered in sequins and as she threw her hips around in rapid precession, the light reflected in them and hit Loki's eyes.

He was regretting coming with Marcine.

And she had yet to show her face since disappearing into the back, where he wasn't allowed to go now.

"Come on Loki," Marcus laughed, nudging the disgruntled mans arm. "Loosen up, have some fun, stick some bills into Precious' skirt, go fondle a girl in the side rooms."

Loki scoffed at that. "Like I would do such a thing," he watched as one man, a greasy pig of a human, stuff his whole hand into another dancers top, a crumpled handful of bills peeking over the top of one breast. "I don't have the stomach for it."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Right, because you are just so proper," he muttered. "Listen if you plan on making a life here you need to get used to the culture. Not everyone has the etiquette and view points as you, sometimes you have to blend in with the wildlife."

Loki looked over at Marcus. "Like you have for the past however many years you have been here?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes, I've tried to keep up with what does well no matter what and I learn how to handle myself in it. I haven't changed one thing though – drugs always sell, and I have done good in that category."

"Disgusting," Loki crinkled his nose.

"Well what do you plan to do with your life? Just stay hold up in that warehouse after you and Marcine clear it out? Have you even started on it?"

Loki sighed. "We never made it, she decided to take a shower before we were going to go to the warehouse and she fell asleep. Saw things I don't think I was supposed to when I went looking for her."

Marcus laughed loudly at that, drawing too much attention to the small corner he and Loki were settled in. "If I wasn't buzzed, I would probably punch you for that," Marcus shook his head a little. "I can't believe she got you to come with her."

"I cannot either," Loki spoke quietly.

"She really likes you Loki."

Loki sighed. "I know, I wish she didn't. All I need is a disgruntled human woman practically stalking me when I leave."

"What makes you think she will follow you when you leave?"

"I just know," Loki looked up as the songs faded between each other. "Where is she?"

Marcus grinned and leaned towards Loki. "Can't wait to see a little hip action from our Marcine?"

Loki stared at him as though he had just done something disgusting. In Loki's opinion, he _had_ done something disgusting. "How intoxicated are you exactly, Marcus?"

"It's called drunk, Loki, and I think I just slipped past the buzzed point. Maybe I should go eat something…"

"What would that do?"

Marcus shook his head. "You need to get drunk sometimes…"

Loki waved a hand. "I would prefer not too in the foreseeable future," he hummed under his breath lightly as the music faded again.

He wasn't anxious to see Marcine flaunt herself around strangers, he was anxious to see her get this done so they could leave. The music was making him thump from the inside out. The reek of alcohol was making his sensitive stomach ache. He wished he could explain to her why he didn't want to be here. He knew that Marcus understood, but Marcus – or Icarus, as he was by birth – had been here for hundreds of years. He had time to adjust, to get used to all of these sights and smells, these feelings. He was almost human himself by now.

"Well, there she is."

Loki looked up, seeing that smile plastered onto his face, and wondered how anyone took it for a genuine smile. Her once meticulously combed curls had become frazzled but she looked truly stunning none the less, fingers coiling tightly around the pole to her right. She lifted her left leg and her weight pulled her into a perfect loop, hips dipping low and then swaying up as she slid her right leg out, the toe of her heels snapping down on a handful of neatly pressed bills a man in a polyester suit slid onto the small stage. She winked at him and bent at the waist, baring her cleavage to him as she scooped up the bills and stuffed them into her tight pants. Loki raised a brow as the same man reached back, pulling out his wallet and opening it.

"You're wondering why he's pulling out more money?"

Loki kept his eyes on Marcine as Marcus scooted closer towards him. "It is foreign to me…"

"Well you see," Marcus breathed alcohol stained breath over his shoulder, but Loki barely flinched. "Mortal men have an insatiable lust. A pretty face and a firm figure pulls them in and makes them do two things. Either they shell out the cash for the strippers and then go their separate ways afterwards, or they think they can do what they want to the woman. That's all mortal men are good for, reproducing, and it doesn't matter if the woman is willing or not."

Loki's back was laced in tension and he noticed the way Marcine landed a swift, barely noticeable, kick to the man in the suit's hand as he tried to reach up for her. The smile never left her lips and she continued to repeat the same set of moves. Twirl, dip, slide, shake and repeat. She was a good actress. Sif faintly fluttered across his mind and Loki steeled his thoughts, focusing on the human woman now staring at him across the room. For a moment she waved at him, causing the men at the edge of her stage to look back at him. They looked away rather quick when they saw him glaring daggers at them.

"There she goes, waving at you again, what spell you got on her?"

Loki looked down at the table in front of him. "I do not do that anymore," he insisted. "The last time I put any spell on a human, it was back in the previous town I was in. I simply blanked their memories."

"Ya know, I remember a time where the God of Mischief didn't act like a whipped pup. I remember how you and I would play with the lives of humans occasionally, toss a spell or two into their lives and then repair it and walk away like nothing happened. Now you're living with a human woman, blanking other humans memories. What happened?"

Loki was silent for a long time and then he took in a deep breath, looking back up to Marcine as the music faded and she waved her way off of the stage, her other hand clutching the pile of bills she had accumulated. "Marcine was the first human I encountered when I hid on Midgard."

Marcus' eyes widened and he choked on the mouthful of beer, the bubbling liquid shooting u into his nostrils and burning. He snatched up a napkin and dapped away the alcohol. "E-Excuse me?"

"She had gotten into a car wreck, not paying attention or something like that I guess. Anyway, I saved her life and then I blanked her memories," he watched as a new dancer joined in the rotation, not minding as the men groped for her. "I have had a hard time toying with humans since."

Marcus stared at Loki for a moment, thinking through the minor story and trying to find something that would cause him to become so…dull. "That doesn't make much sense as to where all of your nerve went, Loki."

The glare he received was proof that not all of that nerve was gone. "Insult me one more time Marcus," he seethed. "You will suffer the same fate as your father did."

That silenced Marcus successfully, until he noticed Marcine peeking out of the door to the changing rooms and Marcus' office. "Hey Marcine," he called over the music, catching her attention. "Come on out!"

She smiled and shook her head. "Jus' making sure Loki was still here," she called back to him. "I'll be out in a minute."

Loki stared at the door even after it was closed, his thoughts becoming muddled with what he was going to do about the young woman. He knew she was already attached to him, he just didn't understand why. Making sure he came with her tonight, making sure he was comfortable at home, making sure he was still here. He should have just left and that would have been the end of it, but she knew where his new home was and he couldn't risk her getting a hold of him again.

"She might like you more than you think Loki."

Loki blinked back into reality, looking back to Marcus "Excuse me?"

Marcus sloshed around his beer for a moment, watching the foam swell up again the sides of the amber bottle. "She might like you Loki," he locked eyes with the confused God. "As more than a friend."

What were they, teenagers?

Loki scoffed and waved a hand, lifting his right leg up and crossing it over his left leg. "Nonsense, I saved her the other day, that was it."

"Safety," Marcus mused. "For a girl like Marcine, that is everything. I think you messed up here Loki."

Loki sighed. He was having the same thoughts.

* * *

_**In the pines  
In the pines  
Where the sun never shines**_

_She couldn't see, she couldn't hear, but she could feel everything._

_Her little legs tried to keep up with her body, but it was a losing battle and her lungs were beginning to give out._

_She looked over her shoulder, of course only seeing nothing aside from the faint beams of light making it through the needles. She was a helpless child, she would be a helpless adult in this abyss of nature. She tried to see ahead of her, but brown pine was the only indication that she was even on a path of any kind. Her lungs were burning, her sides were cramping, her feet were bleeding and her head was ringing. She couldn't make it much longer._

_She couldn't do it._

_She couldn't do it anymore._

_**My girl, my girl  
Tell me where did  
You sleep last night**_

* * *

Marcine's eyes fluttered open and the first thing that happened was she yawned. Her back arched in the effort and her fingers stretched through the sheets on her bed. After a moment of adjusting herself she sat up on her arms, looking towards the small window to her right. It was still night time. She sighed and slid out of her bed, stretching her way towards the bathroom so she could do her business before she went to check the time on the stove. She was still covered in glitter and smelt of hairspray, but she had grown used to the smell by now and it was sort of comforting. It reminded her of what she was good at, and that wasn't saying much. Marcine wasn't proud of her job, but it paid the bills she had.

Once she was done in the bathroom she tip toed towards the kitchen, hoping to not wake up Loki, and then she instinctively started the coffee. It was around four in the morning. She would be waking up in an hour anyway, mine as well get a head start on getting herself cleaned up early. She sat at the kitchen table and yawned, thinking about Loki. He had been quiet on the walk home and so had she, but it was a comfortable silence.

What bothered her was, he had gone straight to bed. It bothered her because he wouldn't look at her the entire walk home, he hadn't said goodnight – of course he hadn't said that before, but still. It was strange, to Marcine anyway. She knew what was going on inside her messed up head and she was trying hard to scold herself. She was beginning to form a crush on Loki. She needed to stop that, he wasn't sticking around, they were complete strangers.

But he brought back something to her damaged brain and she didn't want to lose it yet.

He brought back a memory. When he first spoke to her, when she first looked up at him, she had thought back to that day when she had wrecked her car. Someone looking down on her, someone speaking to her. Someone saving her. He was interested in her scars, he had wanted to touch them. Did he know something? Probably not, but it was worth a shot to ask him about it, right?

Their task for the day – meaning his cleansing of his new home – was a perfect excuse to wake him up early. Plus, he didn't seem like a morning person, so mine as well get him up and through that funk early so he wasn't mean for too long today.

Marcine sighed and pushed herself up and out of her seat, maneuvering through the living room for a moment before she paused outside of the door. She knocked once, waited for a response, and then she faintly heard a woman's voice. Something twisted in her heart and she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and nudged the door open a little. She opened her eyes after a moment, peering through a crack in the door.

It wasn't what she had expected.

She pushed the door open fully then, stepping onto the golden steps and feeling her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Everything was a shining gold color; the arched ceiling, the pronounced walls, the large curtains billowing into the room from the large opening that served as windows. And there was a bed, a large bed, with green sheets and a sleeping Loki. Was she high? Was she drunk? Was she still dreaming?

"L-Loki," her voice stuttered without her permission.

His eyes snapped open and he shot up in the bed, the images around her dispersing in a wave of shining lights and she stared at him for a long time. Her vision was swimming, her head was pounding. She wanted to know what was going on, what the hell had just happened.

"Marcine," he breathed, truly stunned by her appearance in the room. He hadn't heard her come in.

"What the hell was all that," her voice rose up involuntarily, almost to a yell.

This wasn't good. He hadn't expected her to just walk into his room. He shouldn't have done this while she was in the house. He shouldn't have done this period, but he couldn't help himself. He had to experience his old home just because he actually missed it, he had to see his mothers face though she had made no effort to contact him or find him. Now he had a mortal that had seen everything and obviously wanted answers.

She looked as though she were going to pass out. Her whole body was shaking, like she was cold or angry, but her face was full of almost innocent confusion. "Marcine…just…just come listen to me…"

* * *

_Threw his ass right under the bus, didn't I? Now Marcine knows about his magic, but I don't think I'm going to let her in on his little secret yet – meaning the one where he was the one that blanked her mind. Or should I? I don't know, what do you guys think? R&R, flames and praise alike are welcome._


	8. Chapter 8

_**1:55 p.m. – 4/5/14**_

_Oh and at one point in the last chapter, I meant to say she.  
_

_Original: "Loki looked up, seeing that smile plastered onto **his** face, and wondered how anyone took it as a genuine smile."_

_How it should have been: "Loki looked up, seeing that smile plastered onto **her** face, and wondered how anyone took it as a genuine smile."_

_This is the start of the return of the Loki we all know and love with a bit of a twist._

**_JigokuShoujosRevenge:_**_Believe me, I played around with the thought of him doing it again, erasing her memories, but when I thought on it further, having him come back and all that stuff, it would be too cliche. Loki wouldn't come back. He would see this through because, as I have written, he wanted just one person to think of him as a hero - as he thought he was at the end of Thor, trying to be a hero to prove himself to Odin and Thor. But, your review got me thinking about something that I might add but I'm concerned it would frustrate some people so, who knows._

_R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcome._

_Marcus – Icarus (same person, only Loki will call him Icarus for some time)._

* * *

Loki didn't know what was happening to Marcine.

In truth, he was worried. She was sitting on her couch right now, face blank and body frozen. But she was breathing; he took that as a sort of good sign and simply sat in the love seat to the right of the couch, watching her with steady eyes. He didn't know what to do. He hadn't even got to explain anything, she had just…froze. He was concerned that he had did something, unconsciously cast a spell on her while she was still standing in front of him, in the doorway, but after he could not get a response from her, he figured it was just some sort of defense mechanism inside of her.

After a moment, he sighed and moved forward, crouching down in front of her and taking her face in his hands. He twisted her face gently from left to right, trying to see if her eyes would follow him, but they moved in time with her head, as though she wasn't really there. He stared at her for a moment longer, hesitating, before he let his thumb roll there for a moment. He had never touched a mortal female before. She was softer than he thought she would be. He quickly retracted his hand. What the hell was he doing? He sighed again and stood, twisting around to sit beside her. He leaned onto his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"This is my fault, I know," he started, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I would have figured out who you were sooner…I would not have intruded upon your life. You wouldn't be in this situation, you wouldn't have found out about any of that…and I wouldn't be beating myself up over a _mortal_," he pushed himself up rather abruptly, looking back at her with a twisted look on his face. "I do not care," he muttered. "But I do not know who I am trying to convince here…"

He didn't know what he was doing. He could leave and that would be the end of it. But he couldn't find himself even looking at the front door, only on the young woman sitting blankly on the couch behind him. What should he do? Why was she frozen? She was blinking, she was breathing but what was wrong with her? Loki reached up, rubbing his face before he crouched back down in front of her, reaching up and placing his right hand against the side of her face. His thumb rolled there for a moment. He had never touched a mortal female before. She was softer than he thought she would be. He quickly retracted his hand. What the hell was he doing?

_You're touching her, that's what._

Oh bloody hell, of course he was hearing voices now. What voices were they though, the voice of reason? The voice of insanity?

"Loki?"

His eyes flickered up, inches from hers, and he saw her genuinely staring at him. He smiled a little, a strange feeling going through him. Relief. "You are alright," he whispered.

Her face held a certain amount of betrayal but she smiled, reaching out to him. Loki froze as her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him even closer to her. To say Loki was stunned would be overly accurate. He didn't know what to do with his hands, his eyes, his breath. He was completely at a loss what to do. She gave him a heartfelt squeeze and pulled away from him, smiling still.

"I should be terrified," she whispered.

He frowned a little, his nose scrunching up, and he reached up, pulling her arms from him. He stood, towering over her and he then ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, you should."

She shook her head a little, neck craned up to look at his face. "I'm not."

"Why?"

She shook her head, looking so confused and yet placid. "I don't know."

"Well that makes a whole lot of sense," he quipped, turning away from her. He huffed, placing a hand on his hip and then he looked down. "What did you see?"

She stared at his back for the longest time, her bottom lip gnashed between her teeth, grinding it slowly. "Well…I saw a lot of gold. Big windows…a high ceiling…and you on a bed."

He looked up, eyes roaming around on the wall in front of him. "Nothing else?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she pushed herself to her feet, feeling light headed for the briefest moment. "Nothing else? Are you kidding me, it was like a whole different place in that room," she threw a hand over her shoulder towards the hallway. "Loki, you can't sit there and act like there could be anything more stunning than that."

"Stunning?"

She stared blankly at him, her hand shaking behind her before she lowered her arm back to her side. "Yes Loki, stunning. That room, whatever that was, was the most beautiful room I had ever seen…ever. Not even the movies can make such a spectacular room."

He looked back at her, hand held just under his chin, and then he lowered it. "You froze," he muttered, still confused by the reaction she had given him.

Marcine blinked. "O-Oh…no wonder you looked so relieved when I said your name," Loki cringed at the mention of a brief weak point. "It happens sometimes, I blank out for no reason. I can't believe it was so short this time," she sat back down on the couch, folding her hands in her lap. "Sometimes they last minutes, sometimes they last hours, sometimes they last for days…And I've never done it with shock. That shocked me pretty bad, but usually it just happens because…it happened the day I got these scars…"

Loki's face grew serious. "What do you mean?"

She looked up at him, lips pursed tightly then she sighed. "The day I can't remember, the day I wrecked, I know I blanked out. That's how I crashed, but it doesn't absolve for the missing memories…"

Loki stared at her for even longer, his mind rolling, thoughts flickering. He should tell her, he should tell her right now. Maybe then he could finally have the peace of mind to rid her fully of the memories of him. For good. He would know her face, remember it, and never bother her again. It stunned him for a moment, the thought of how a mere mortal could make him go to such risks to keep him out of her memory.

And that stunned thought made it easier for him to decide.

"What do you think happened, Marcine," he spoke very carefully.

Her eyes were wide, curious. "Well…to me it looked like an illusion…but I could feel the breeze, I could smell things in there that don't belong to that room…" her eyes were gently glazed over in remembrance, recounting the feel of that breeze rolling over her, the sweet smells coming from somewhere. "But I'm sure it's something else…"

He had to tell her now, there was no backing out of it, he couldn't bring himself to erase her memories again. Not this time. Not ever again. "It was…it was not an illusion, it was a gateway into…something else. Something I do not believe you are ready or able to understand."

And just like that, she snapped back into reality, something burning through her eyes for the briefest moment. "I'm not a child, Loki," she started. "I won't freak out like I did a few moments ago. just tell me please."

That pleading look, it was all over her pretty face, and Loki couldn't help himself. In the back of his mind, where that little black voice hissed, he could hear it saying he was going soft. He supposed he was, for her, and it seemed like it was an ok thing to do. This was something he could live with. This was something that he didn't mind doing; despite all of his misdeeds and that mischievous nature, Loki Laufeyson decided he could confide in this young woman. This young woman with copper hair, a soft pout and the most brilliant eyes he had ever seen in a human, the gold color rivaling even the palace of Asgard's structure. She was not a threat, she would never tell another living soul about him, and it would make conversations with Icarus less awkward. He wondered briefly how Icarus had kept such a secret from a woman he had claimed to have almost raised, but her eyes drew him back in.

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, running his hands down the front of his white button up, eyes closing for a moment as he listened to the air rushing through his nostrils, and then his eyes snapped open to Marcine, who was staring at him in odd curiosity. Where should he start? He figured the basics was good enough for now, perhaps, in the future, he could tell her…everything. But now was not a good time, it was too much.

"The name I have given you is correct, my name is Loki. I…" he hesitated still, his face taking on that constant, soft, scowl, as though he were thinking of something displeasing or he was in slight pain. "I am over 1,048 years old."

Her face drew a blank and for a moment, Loki thought he had broken her. "So…you're like…a wizard? Like Dumbledore or Gandalf?"

He bit his tongue at that. A wizard? "No…my mother taught my magic, sorcery, but I am no magician…" should he? Yes. "I am a…God."

It took her a moment to process it, and the next thing that came out of her mouth infuriated and yet entertained Loki. "Holy crap! Like that Thor guy that stopped the giant metal man out in that desert? Do you know him?"

His brow furrowed. He didn't know if he should tell her that, it would delve into too much information he was not willing, or ready, to give her at the time. "No…I do not."

"Oh," she didn't look truly fazed. "So what are you?"

"Mischief," at that, he wanted to grin. "Mayhem."

"Chaos."

He nodded. "Very smart."

Her cheeks flushed red and she looked down, scratching the back of her head. "Well I um…I just figured…it all sounds the same."

"Oh but it isn't."

"I know that," she smiled at him, her cheeks still a brilliant pink. "Like I said, I'm not an idiot."

He raised a brow at this. "You seem to be taking this very well," he mused.

"It is a lot to take in," she pushed herself to her feet, getting dangerously close to him once again. "But I can handle it, I've handled worse than a Norse God being in my living room."

Had he heard her correctly? "Worse than this?"

Something darkened in her eyes and for a moment, her persona changed. Her chest flushed towards him more, her chin jerking up and her gaze seemed hazy. She wasn't truly there. "Don't ruin the moment…" she whispered.

His eyes flickered across her face and he reached up, taking a hold of her chin while he rested his free hand behind his back. As soon as his fingers took a hold of her chin, she was back. Her eyes brightened and her body slackened, curling away from him. As she rubbed her chin, trying to bring back the heat to her skin, Loki moved his hand to his back, clasping it in the other. She looked up at him for the longest time, seeing him indifferent.

"You got lost," he muttered.

She shook her head a little, confused but focused on something else. "Why are you so…"

"Cold?"

"Yes."

He mused for a moment. "I am from a race known as Frost Giants…my appearance was molded from the moment I was born, altering itself to mirror the image of a human."

"But you're a God," she stated the obvious.

"Correct, but where I come from, mortals and immortals share the same physical and biological traits. The only obvious difference is our aging differences."

"And that fact that you can use magic," she muttered.

He couldn't help but smile at that. "It is but a small detail…Marcine you cannot tell a soul, do you hear me?"

She grinned at that. "Well no shit," her eyes flickered around his face for a moment. "Why share the information when I can have the magic all to myself?"

It took Loki a moment, but he grinned at that. One of his old grins, the ones where he did something truly…_mischievous_. That was why she was an actually a truly beautiful mortal to him. She was just as mischievous, just as cunning, but ten times more innocent than Loki ever was. Or ever will be.

"Devious little thing aren't you," he took a step towards her.

She nodded a little, heat rising to her cheeks as she reached back, ruffling her hair. "I get a wild hair sometimes…my grandmother says I got it from my father. My mother was very conservative, or so she says."

"Apparently her facts were wrong if your mother ended up with a man like your father," Loki mused, taking another step towards her.

She craned her neck up to peer at him, but only so far to where she peered at him from under her eyelashes. Deftly deceiving. She put on a bravado of innocence. She had a darkness in side of her. The idea of that, appealed to him, more immensely than he thought it would. He wanted something. What, he didn't know. And before he could think on it anymore, she smiled. Her lips quirked up rather tenderly, and that served to please Loki even more.

"Loki," she whispered in a questioning tone.

He shook his head gently, tilting it slightly to the side. "Hush..."

She would do anything he asked of her, anything at all. She was his, his to rule. Bendable will. That was why he was latched to her. The guilt, the need for someone to see him as more than an equal, the ability to bend her any way he wanted to. His hands reached up, fingers curling gently around her biceps, and he held her there, while her hands smoothed across his chest, feeling how cold he was but not being bothered by it. Her racing heart was keeping her warm enough for it to go ignored for the moment.. His eyes instinctively closed, just like hers, and his lips ghosted across hers, dangerously close.

Then a pounding knock echoed through the apartment.

They both froze, Marcine's fingertips pressing into his chest in slight aggravation as his breath flooded through her, his own hands curling painfully tight around her arms. He closed the small gap his lips had made, tongue pressing against his teeth as he swallowed and let go of tiny Marcine, his eyes easing open. He stepped around her as hers opened and she turned around, eyes following him to the door. When he opened it, his anger showed clear on his face – not to mention his frustration and strange embarrassment – when he saw Icarus standing there. Loki's subconscious was slowly catching his reality back when it saw the faint shimmer the mans face gave; his glamour was breaking. Something had happened, but Loki was still angry and with Loki, anger ruled everything, even his own common sense.

"What is it _Icarus_," he spat through gritted teeth, not even concerned that he had mixed up the names of the man in front of him with Marcine so close.

Icarus looked up, one eye squinting shut as he panted against the door frame. That was when Loki noticed the faint scent of burnt wax and feathers, seeing one or two still smoking around his bare feet. His eyes traveled back up to the man he called his, uncle, his face placid and calm, preparing for the news Icarus was here to spill. When Icarus said it, Loki thought he had heard him wrong and asked him to repeat it. Icarus sighed and took in a breath, looking worn and tired.

"Thor."

* * *

_. I actually wanted this chapter to last longer but I finished this just a few minutes before I posted it. I had to stop because we live near this military base and they have been doing test bombings for the past half hour and it makes everything so difficult when your house shakes._


	9. Chapter 9

_**8:20 p.m. – 4/11/14**_

_I was going to wait to post this for another week, but I couldn't contain myself. I hope you guys enjoy. By the way, I realize that the part where he touched her face was repeated. It's a long story as to why it keeps doing that to me, so I'll just say I am trying to fix it right now.  
_

_**Warning (s): **__Triggering content in the beginning of this chapter, you have been warned._

_Marcine is around twenty-three years old, and we are going back to 2001, meaning Marcine would be about twelve, in the beginning of this chapter._

_R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcome._

_Marcus – Icarus_

* * *

"_Marcine, come meet our new neighbors."_

_The young girl looked up from the notebook in her lap. She was sitting on her bed, thin legs crossed under her, long dark copper hair spilling over one shoulder. New neighbors? She didn't know they had new neighbors. After thinking on it for a moment, she supposed her grandmother had said something about it earlier that day, but Marcine had been listening to music so of course she wasn't paying any attention to what her grandmother had said._

"_Coming," she called down, sliding from her bed so she could stuff her feet into a pair of black tennis shoes, in case her grandmother drug her and the new neighbors out into the backyard for a glass of tea. "Don't wanna do this," she muttered beneath her breath._

_She paused at the top of the stairs, seeing a young looking couple standing in the doorway, the woman talking animatedly to her grandmother while the man just smiled sweetly at them, as if this were the most interesting thing in the world. The teenager, he was probably two or three years older than Marcine, was a whole nother story. His piercing grey eyes had riveted to her the moment she came into view, a hypnotized look on his face, lips threatening to twitch into a smile or a grin. The air thumping off of him made Marcine uneasy. She didn't like this. She didn't like him. She wanted nothing to do with these people._

_When her grandmother noticed her, she barked out Marcine's name, snapping the teenager out of his trance. But not before he tossed a wink at her. "Marcine sweet heart, these are the Ware's, they moved into Roger's old house."_

_Marcine swallowed, pulling up a fake smile and jogging down the steps to land in front of the trio. Image is everything. "Oh right, what happened to Mr. Roger's?"_

_Her grandmother shook her head a little. "Who knows, that man has never settled down into a house, not since he was in his teens. How about we all move to the patio and get better acquainted?"_

_The couple hesitated while the teenager continued to stare. The woman smiled gently at Marcine's grandmother. "Oh we don't want to intrude, we just came over to introduce ourselves."_

_Her grandmother shook her head, dark brown hair ruffling about. "Nonsense, it is impolite to not at least have you drink a glass of tea so we can get to know each other a little better. Come on, I just made a fresh pitcher of tea. I'm sure Marcine would like to get to know young Christopher as well, how old is he now?"_

"_Christopher just turned fourteen," the woman smiled broadly. "I guess we could stay for a few minutes, what do you think John?"_

_The man shook his head. "I wouldn't mind staying either, what the hell?"_

_Marcine's grandmother laughed and waved them towards her, headed towards the back of the house. "Marcine, you go get the glasses and I'll get everyone settled outside, maybe Christopher can help you?"_

"_Good idea," John said sternly. "Help the young lady, Christopher and don't bother with trying to talk to him. He doesn't speak."_

_Marcine's grandmother's face took on a look of slight horror, a hand coming up to rest over her heart. "Oh my, was there an accident?"_

_John shook his head. "Oh no, he was born mute."_

_Her grandmother shook her head in sympathy, turning back to the back of the house again. "That's a shame, but do hurry along Marcine."_

_Marcine hesitated, afraid to be near this mute that was staring at her with a subdued look, but didn't disobey her grandmother and swallowed around the thick lump in her throat. She slipped past the stairs, her fingers coming up to play in front of her, and she jumped every time she heard the heavy thump of boots behind her. Inside the kitchen, she opened the fridge and pulled out the plastic pitcher of tea, carefully placing it on a large round platter and then she walked to the opposite side of the room, stretching up to get to the glasses just over head, when her whole body tensed. _

_His weight pressed against her back tightly, a hardness rubbing against her bottom as he ground his hips against hers, and a sudden tear slipped down her cheek, her outstretched hand trembling. His unwashed breath spread over her shoulder and she cowered, closing her eyes as one of his hand slipped around and tried to fight its way into her jeans, but being a fashion conscious teenage girl, her jeans were too tight for him to get more than two fingers in there._

_He growled and she could almost hear the threatening voice he could possess growling at her in warning._

* * *

Loki stared at Icarus, who was now seated on the couch, trembling. Loki had shooed Marcine off to the kitchen and was standing tall over his uncle, a threatening look in his cerulean eyes. "What do you mean, Thor is on Midgard," he repeated – for perhaps the fifth time – very carefully.

Icarus looked up at him, through the shaky bangs across his brow, and then he shook his head, rubbing his face gently. "I mean just that, he is on Midgard."

"How do you know."

It wasn't a question.

It was a demand.

Even being several hundreds of years older than Loki, Icarus felt the familiar tension of a royal tongue striking at his spine and straightened it at the venom in Loki's voice. "He came to me, said I knew something about you, where you were."

"And," Loki urged, impatient.

Icarus waved his hands a little. "I didn't say anything Loki," Icarus urged. "More Gods means more danger for Marcine and I would do anything to keep her safe."

"How _chivalrous_," Loki quipped, a sneer on his lips.

Icarus looked up at him, his eyes black, irises green how they were naturally. "Loki, if it meant keeping her safe…I would kill you with my own hands."

Loki stared at Icarus with a straight face, lips lightly pursed. He wouldn't put it past Icarus to do so, he was an extremely protective man when it came to the ones he loved, but he also claimed Loki was his favorite out of the Asgardian princes, so it meant more than he would threaten the God of Mischief with death. Loki's jaw trembled lightly and he switched his footing and nodded, walking over towards the window. It was becoming his favorite spot in the apartment. He clasped his hands behind his back, his mind reeling with questions and thoughts, lingering ones and then there was the fear instilled by Thor's presence in Midgard. What would he be doing here, why would he be looking for Loki after all this time…it had been fifteen years, he just pops up now?

"Loki…"

The aforementioned god turned around, seeing Marcine standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking confused and cautious. Her eyes flickered between Loki and Icarus, waiting for one of them to talk to her. Icarus looked up at her and smiled, then he looked over to Loki, pointing at the small woman waiting for their voices.

"She know," he asked.

Loki shrugged a little, scowling gently. "She knows some."

"How much?"

Loki stared at his uncle for a long time and then looked down to the floor. "I got careless."

Icarus sighed, pushing himself off of the couch. "Of course you were," Icarus turned to face Marcine fully. "Sweetheart what do you know?"

She looked to Loki first and after a moment of silent staring he nodded, knowing she was looking for his approval. When she looked at Icarus – or Marcus, as she knew – her face was placid, firm. "What do _you _know Marcus," she took a step back from him. "Why do I feel like I'm in the dark about something big? What haven't you told me?"

Icarus/Marcus grinned. "I'm so sorry Marcine. I had a good reason, it would have put you in too much danger."

Her face gave away the feeling of betrayal and she shook her head a little. "Marcus…"

"I should have picked a better name," he looked back at Loki, seeing an amused little smile on the God of Mischief's face. "I was never good at names though. I remember helping with Thor's name. Terrible name, should have gone with my first choice."

"And what was that," Loki asked, a grin slowly worming its way onto his sharp face.

Icarus'/Marcus' grin was amazing. "Ostadar."

Loki began to cackle, bowing forward slightly as his eyes crinkled in the corner. "Rainbow? You were going to name him after a rainbow?"

"Oh yes," Icarus/Marcus laughed. "But Odin deemed it unfit for a God of Thunder. He needed manly, so I just tossed that out there. Whatever."

"Marcus!"

Both men stopped their playing and looked up to Marcine, who was downright angry, and then they both sighed in unison. Loki straightened his back, a feeling buzzing in his chest and Icarus/Marcus looked to Marcine with a look of sympathy in his features.

"Marcine, I wanted to tell you for a long time now but I just couldn't. As I said, it would have been too dangerous but I guess this calls for an explanation," Icarus/Marcus looked to Loki briefly and then he looked back to Marcine. "By birth, my name is Icarus. No doubt you were never taught the legend. I flew on wings of wax, tried to touch the sky and the heat melted my wings. Don't regret it but whatever," he pointed to Loki, who adverted his gaze from meeting Marcine's. "Loki is my nephew, not by blood but by choice."

Marcine stared at them with wide eyes, her jaw set in strange defiance. She swallowed thickly and stomped over to Loki, looking up at him sharply before she reared a hand back and let it shoot forward, the palm smacking flatly against his jaw. Icarus looked on in amusement, a smile on his face as he watched Loki clench his jaw. Loki swallowed and looked down the bridge of his nose at the small woman in front of him, his teeth grinding rhythmically before he smirked, a playful look in his eyes.

"I like her," he purred, looking up at Icarus.

A look passed over Icarus' face, one that threatened him without saying anything. "Loki…"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, can't I just have a little fun?"

"Not with her you can't," Icarus growled.

Marcine looked between the two of them then hit Loki in the center of his chest, her face showing no amusement in the situation. "Dammit I'm not here to play. Loki…why did you keep this from me?"

"Why are you so upset with him? I'm the one that kept this from you your whole life," Icarus pointed out.

Marcine looked back at him, her face showing a strange emotion and then she looked up at Loki. "Because…well…"

It took Icarus a moment and when he figured it out, his temper flared dramatically, his fists clenching at his sides. But Loki looked genuinely curious as to why the little red head in front of him was more concerned as to why the strange had kept something from him than a trusted family friend. Icarus looked at the both of them, his temper slowly ebbing away, but he didn't change his demeanor and then he swallowed thickly.

"Answer her Loki, why did you keep it from her?"

He answered with no hesitation. "As you yourself said, it would put her in danger," his eyes met Icarus' for a moment before he looked down to Marcine, catching her own gaze. "She is not someone I would like to put in danger."

Her lips twitched towards a smile. "I'm not fragile, Loki," her voice was barely above a whisper.

"In my world, you are."

Icarus stared at them for a moment, feeling uneasy about this, but then he cleared his throat, clapping his hands together. "Alright you two," it snapped them out of the moment successfully, earning Icarus a glare from over the top of Marcine's head. Icarus smiled at that. "Listen, we have to figure out what's going on with Thor. Why he's here and what he wants with you."

Loki was all business again, his face stern and he lifted his left hand, gripping Marcine's right elbow gently and turning her as he approached Icarus taking Marcine with him. "Could you possibly talk to him about it?"

Icarus shook his head. "No, he won't tell me anything. Believe me, I asked," Icarus ran his fingers through his hair.

Loki swallowed thickly, reaching up and brushing his forehead gently before he looked to Icarus. He hated the words that came from his mouth. "I may have to approach him myself," he muttered, hesitant.

Icarus looked at him with a strange, twisted, look on his face. Had he heard him correctly. "I thought you despised Thor?"

Loki nodded. "I do," he looked down at Marcine, who was more focused on Icarus at the moment. "But I know Thor, and he would not come here just to pay me a visit," the venom in his voice was obvious, matching the deep sneer on his face. "If he is here, it is for an actual purpose other than to talk or capture me," Loki removed his hand from Marcine's elbow and placed it on her shoulder, catching her attention. "Would you mind having a few guests over?"

Icarus lurched forward, a firm hand taking a hold of Loki's free hand, squishing the fingers together so jolts of actual pain shot through the appendages, and he caught the God's eyes with a deadly glare. "No, I will not have more problems come to her doorstep."

"You have already come here," Loki hissed, jerking his hand from Icarus' grip. "She will be at my side. We will leave after we are through talking. Do you think that I am an idiot, Icarus?"

Icarus stared at him for a moment longer – lots of staring going on here – and then he nodded, taking a step back, looking to Marcine. "What do you say Marcine?"

The young human woman looked between the two of them, concerned and confused, but also excited. She knew who Thor was, and she had wanted to meet him since that incident in, what was it, New Mexico? She was probably wrong, but either way she wanted to meet him. She turned to Loki all the way, nodding her head fiercely, a grin on her face.

"I am totally all for it! I want to meet Thor!"

Loki got a disgruntled look on his face while Icarus snickered. "Of course, you want to see the muscled blonde…"

"Oh come on Loki, let the little lady meet your brother without putting up a fuss."

"He is not my brother," Loki quipped.

Marcine's face showed curiosity. "He's your brother?"

"Not anymore," Loki muttered, looking back up to Icarus. "When do you think you can have him here?"

He was so reluctant for this. Loki _did not _want to see Thor, he wasn't ready. He was still angry after all that had happened in Asgard, after being lost by Thor and having fifteen years of silence when he promised contact. He promised calls and he had abandoned Loki for the second time. Well, Loki had grown a hatred of Thor. He wouldn't be talking to him if Thor had no real reason to be here, looking for Loki. The raven haired god had an inkling as to why Thor was here, he had been feeling an odd rumbling in his chest the moment he arrived in New Orleans, but had put it off as nothing more than his powers beginning to become uneasy with misuse.

"Maybe tomorrow…but I'm not hoping on that soon. I won't tell him you're here until I get him to the apartment. Then he'll just zoom off and that is never good."

Loki nodded and followed Icarus to the door, feeling rather than hearing Marcine following behind him. "That sounds good. I would prefer to get this done as soon as possible, try us tomorrow."

"We'll be here," Marcine poked her head up from over Loki's right shoulder, straining to do so seeing as she was a good foot shorter than him. "Impatiently waiting."

Icarus chuckled and began to walk down the steps of the apartment, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "Alright, I'll be here with him around noon. Don't get into too much trouble until then."

Loki stared at the door even after it was shut, his brow furrowed in confusion. Trouble? What the hell would they be doing?

"Loki…"

How many times was she going to say his name? He wished she would stop. He turned around to her, brow unfurrowing and he saw she was smiling at him, hands held behind her back. Was she trying to tempt him with her chest flushed towards him that way? Probably so, and Loki found he didn't really mind. It was an interesting thought but he didn't act on it. She bit her lip gently and then cleared her throat.

"Seems we won't be working on the warehouse any time soon," she muttered. "So looks like you're stuck here with me for the time being."

It took him a minute, but Loki smirked at that. "It would seem so…"

* * *

Two days.

He had spent two days with the tiny Marcine, and he was already questioning his ability to ever leave.

He looked up from the plate of food set in front of him, watching Marcine's back as she stood at the counter, getting herself a cup of coffee. It was nice, sitting in silence and pretending everything was normal. Like she wasn't a stripper. Like he wasn't a God of Mischief. Like they were normal people, eating a normal lunch in a normal world. But they weren't normal. She was a stripper. He was a God of Mischief. They were not normal people. But Loki could pretend, he could pretend that this was normal, he could pretend for as long as possible. The concept of normal was becoming a promising idea for the moment and the future. All of his time spent striving to be king, to be good enough to Odin and Thor, and the only person he was better than good, better than great, to was a human woman with copper hair.

She smiled at him as if called and Loki stared in amusement, his lips twitching towards his own smile. Marcine turned off the water and then looked back down to the cup of coffee in front of her, watching the sugar twirl in the cup and then she set down her spoon, turning to Loki. She leaned back against the counter, holding her mug between her hands.

"This has been an exciting day," she muttered.

He nodded, looking down to his food to continue eating.

Marcine's shoulders slumped a little, the hyper aware side of her slowly fading out. She stared at him for a long time, biting her lip in thought. She didn't know what she wanted with him, she was still kind of in shock. He was a _God_ and he knew Thor! He was borderline amazing. But Marcine just wanted him to finish what he started, meaning that little moment earlier before Mar-Icarus, interrupted them.

But how could she do such a thing?

She could just be blunt, he seemed blunt, but she was hesitant to do such a thing.

"What do you want to do today," Marcine asked.

He chewed silently for a moment and then looked up at her. "I would prefer to sit still for an extended period of time in shock but I suppose you don't want to do that," Marcine shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. Loki sighed and set his spoon down, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what _do _you want to do today?"

Marcine thought on it for another moment and then she grinned. "Let's go out to the bayou!"

"Excuse me?"

Marcine nodded fiercely, setting down her coffee and jogging out of the kitchen. "Bayou! Now! You better look good in shorts!"

Loki stood, jogging to the hallway but he was too late, her door had shut behind her, and he had no one to protest to.

* * *

_Ugh I want Tom Hiddleston in a blue suit for my birthday. Or anyday.  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_**11:52 p.m. – 4/13/14**_

_I actually got the idea of this from a little spontaneous trip a friend of mine dragged me into a couple of weeks ago. I will be honest, I know I write Thor and Jane better together than I write Loki standing alone. For the moment. I've been tinkering with a few one shots, trying to get his character development right, and now I have these next few chapters getting him into the right character. _

_**Question: **__So, I will be honest with you guys that I – like many others – have a hard time with slow romance. When I do slow romance, most of the time it turns into a non-romantic story but I have gotten better. What do you guys think? Please let me know because this is killing me. Loki and Marcine are obviously closer every chapter but I can keep that neutral._

_Marcus – Icarus (Everyone but Marcine will call him Icarus, to her he will remain Marcus)_

* * *

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Loki refused to get out of the passenger seat of the car – he didn't even know Marcine _had _a car – despite Marcine's begging and her pleas.

"Come on Loki, you went this far just a little more."

"I refuse to be in the presence of squatters," he muttered angrily. "It is so degrading."

"You're rooming with me Loki, this is a step up on the social food chain."

He looked over at her and her pleading pout. She was two feet from the open car door, a dark red towel thrown over her right shoulder and she was bent at the waist gently, giving him a perfect view of her cleavage and the people behind her a perfect view of her rear end. His eyes flickered at the thought of that and he caught two men grinning lopsidedly at her displayed assets and he felt a rumbling in his chest. He looked back to her and she was smiling. It was coaxing and gentle.

He sighed and nodded, uncrossing his arms from his chest. "Fine, but how long are we going to be here?"

She shrugged and straightened her back, looking around at the trees surrounding them. "We don't really have a time limit," she smiled down at him again. "I just don't want to sit around the apartment until Marcus finds Thor."

Loki did not voice his agreement because there was no agreement there. He didn't want to see Thor. But he had to, and instead of being out in the thick bayou three hours from the apartment he was growing comfortable in, he would rather be back there, silently stewing over the coming encounter. He would have Marcine close, Icarus as well. Thor was not going to take him from Midgard. He was going to remain there, with Marcine in her mediocre home drinking coffee and enjoying her presence.

With Marcine.

"As long as we don't stay here for too long," he muttered, reaching out and taking a hold of the handle, slinging one long leg out of the car.

Marcine squealed a little and clapped her hands together. "Yay!"

His eyes widened as she grabbed a hold of his hand, dragging him towards the gathering as soon as the door slammed shut. Loki stared over her head, feeling truly uneasy at the sight of the many mortals waiting for the two of them. Loki was never a social bug, Loki never had a lot of friends and he had never felt comfortable during coronations or banquets. He would always slip upstairs to his room after he took two or three bites from his food. His face wasn't known by too many throughout the kingdom of Asgard. No one had seen his mature face, but they knew him as a child.

"I do not know about this," he tried.

Marcine paused, grinning back at him. "The God of Mischief never attended social events?"

"I attended very few and when I did, I never interacted with many of the people. Intoxicated mortals is an entirely different situation," he hissed in her ear, eyes flickering around the faces ignoring them.

Marcine pouted and then smiled again, reaching up. She hesitated but then swallowed and placed her hand flat against the side of his face, the palm nestling just under his cheek bone. It drew his eyes to her and she could see them go placid, unreadable.

"Don't say intoxicated, say drunk. And look, these people are just like me. They are fun, carefree and the women are shy despite the skimpy bikinis. Just relax and laugh a few times. I don't need you drinking though. I have no clue what you could possibly do when you think you can do anything."

A sly little grin came across his face. "I already know I can do anything, I do not need alcohol to think that way."

Marcine felt her heart skip a beat and she let his face go. "Well then maybe we can try that out later."

His eyebrows jumped upwards slightly. "Getting bold, are we?"

"I can do that with you," she muttered. "Seems fun."

"Mischievous."

She smiled widely. "Exactly."

"Marcine! Bring him over, I wanna meet this thing!"

Loki raised an eyebrow at the brunette waving them over and Marcine whipped around, a smile on her lips. "He's not a _thing _Amber."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," her eyes ran over him as he approached, appreciating his appearance before she stood and held a hand out to him. "Amber Deveroux."

"Loki Laufeyson," he just stared at her hand, suddenly aware of the grip Marcine had on his own. "Love, you are cutting off my circulation."

She looked up at him in embarrassment and let go of his hand. "I am _so _sorry," she apologized. "I totally forgot!"

Amber pouted, beer bottle clenched in her right hand. "Oh, you called her love. So you're not free," she placed her free hand on her hip. "Boo."

Loki chuckled at this. Yet he didn't correct her words. "I am truly sorry."

"_Hot and polite_," she exaggerated the words with a hopeless look before she slumped down onto a moss covered log someone had rolled up. "That is not fair, how come the stripper gets the good ones?"

"Because the stripper is hotter," one of the men settled on the ground chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. He dusted off his hand on his khaki shorts and held it out to Loki. "Names James, sorry Marcine had to drag ya out here."

Loki took his hand and gave it a light shake before he dropped his hand back to his side, aware at how hot his skin was becoming with all the contact. "I came very reluctantly, but she insisted upon it."

"Of course she would," James chuckled again, moving back to his spot and falling down into the soft dirt. "Marcine is a social bee."

Loki looked over when he saw a bright orange blur coming towards him and saw a young woman that looked a lot like Marcine. Sadly, she wasn't as beautiful as Marcine. Where Marcine had an excessive amount of freckles across her skin, this young woman had only a few scattered across random spots on her exposed skin. She had no real curves and the hideous orange skirt wrapped around her waist made her tan even worse. Her hair was the same as Marcine's however, a dark copper that made her prettier than she was. She enveloped Marcine in a warm hug and smiled widely, holding the young woman at arms length.

"Marcine! I was wandering when you were gonna spend another weekend with us."

"Oh I won't be spending the weekend this time," Marcine started, backing up to stand beside Loki. "I have work this weekend and I have guests to entertain. We just came out here because…because his brother is coming out and we didn't want to just sit around and wait."

"Well didn't he give you a time when he was coming in?"

"No, he's really just dropping in."

"Well that is just rude."

Loki smiled a little. He liked these humans. "What is your name?"

She looked over at Loki, eyes darting across him for a moment before she held out a hand. He didn't take it but she just waved it off. "You can call me Minx. That's what James calls me and it's kind of stuck."

"Damn right it has babe, now come sit down."

Marcine smiled and then backed up to Loki's side while her friends began to discuss something Marcine wasn't a part of. She was grateful for that, for the moment. "Her real name is Veronica."

Loki looked down at her. "Excuse me?"

"Minx, her real name is Veronica. She's my sister."

"You never mentioned her."

Marcine shook her head. "She's not my sister by blood. Veronica is twenty five, two years older than I am. Her neighbors adopted her when she was seven and they died when she was sixteen, same time my parents did, only they actually disappeared."

"Tragic," Loki muttered.

She pursed her lips and pat his arm lightly. "Anyway, my grandmother took her in after that and well, she became my sister. I love her to death, but these are actually her friends and not mine."

"And I thought you said the women were like you, they seem obscene."

Marcine chuckled a little. "That's just Amber and she's drunk right now. Veronica is in a good mood. See those two sitting besides Veronica? The twins?"

They were a girl and a boy with the same facial structure, the girl obviously prettier while the boy was actually plain. They had the same blonde hair, the males actually longer than his counterparts and they wore matching – in color – bathing suits. They both had a beer in their hands and were talking animatedly about something they called 'crab people'.

"Yes."

"The boys name is Caleb and his sisters name is Trish. They are like super strange. They talk about myths and stuff all the time. I actually think if they knew about who you really are, they would talk up a storm with you. You could prove them wrong a lot. It would be funny to watch."

Loki chuckled. "I would like to know what they know about me."

"Well then go talk to them," Marcine nudged him with her elbow. "Socialize with us pathetic human, oh great God of Mischief."

He smiled a genuine smile at her and that made her heart skip a beat. "I prefer King."

"Well then, great King of Mischief."

He could get used to her calling him king. Very used to it.

* * *

Thor paced against the granite floor of his throne room, hands clasped behind his back as his golden cape flutter behind him, curling around his legs as he turned each time. Jane stood, poised in perfect posture, to the right of the throne, watching her husband with wide, worried, eyes. She had been watching him do this for at least thirty minutes. All because of Icarus. He had sent a messenger to tell Thor he would be in Asgard before sundown to talk about something important.

She tried again to catch his attention. "Thor, please just come sit."

"You know very well that I cannot," he glanced at her briefly, too briefly too catch her concerned expression. "Icarus could arrive at any moment and I am simply too anxious for this."

"Oh, so you are putting his news over my worries?"

Thor faltered in his steps and looked up to Jane, finally registering the worry and concern dashed across her face. He took in a breath, scolding himself under that breath, and he approached his wife. She was so small compared to him that as he cupped her face in his hands, she appeared to be a child. She closed her eyes and leaned into his left palm, placing her lips against his wrist before she opened her eyes again and placed her hand on the outer side of his hand.

"Calm yourself," she whispered. "You need to be level headed when he arrives anyway. Getting worked up this way will not solve any problems."

He let out a long sigh and nodded, leaning forward and placing his forehead against hers. "I am sorry and you are right. I have never been good at things like this."

"Waiting?"

"Exactly."

Jane chuckled a little and she took a step back from him, holding his hands in her own. "Alright, close your eyes," she ordered softly.

He smiled at her and did as she told. "Alright…"

"Now take a deep breath in through your nose," he followed her instructions, inhaling the thick scent of vanilla oil Jane used on a regular basis. "Now breath out slowly through your nose."

As he did so, he felt the tension leave his shoulders and his eyes snapped open in wonder. "What is this?"

Jane chuckled again. "It's just breathing exercises Thor, nothing to get worked up about."

He clasped the sides of her face again and brought her lips to his in a thick kiss. She squeaked and closed her eyes, smiling against his lips until he let her go. "You are truly beautiful, brilliant!"

Jane smiled and her lips parted, a praise for him on the tip of her tongue, when a familiar boisterous young woman ran into the throne room. Her dark lips were parted in a wide O and she was waving her hands to her right, towards the hallway she had just emerged from. To say Darcy was excited was an understatement. Jane sighed and Thor let go of her, smiling at the over excited woman now waving her hands in every direction.

"Darcy, calm down," Jane sighed. "What has you so worked up?"

Darcy pursed her lips so tightly they almost disappeared then she took in a deep breath. "Hot guy is here!"

Jane and Thor stared at her with blank faces, Thor's brow gently furrowed while Jane sighed. "Seriously, Darcy?"

"I am flatter."

Jane looked over, seeing Icarus approaching them with a cocky grin on his face. Thor grinned and took wide strides to get to his uncle, enveloping him into one of his bear hugs before he clasped him on the shoulder and kept him at arm's length. And no further. Icarus looked to the hand on his arm and raised an eyebrow, looking up at Thor. He could feel the tension and anticipation going through Thor with just that touch and wandered if he already knew, or had some kind of clue, as to why Icarus was here.

"Calm down Thor," Icarus shrugged his hand off and cocked his head a little. "Why don't you sit down and I will get comfortable before we talk."

Thor nodded, displeased with the slow approach, but he never disobeyed his elders and walked to his throne. As he slumped down into it, Jane and Darcy stood to his right, Darcy winking and waving at Icarus – who chuckled and winked along with her, straightening his robes. Robes. He hadn't changed his style in clothing in over a thousand years. He hadn't aged either, his hair and skin still perfect. His eyes were unnerving though. The strange organs were just too much. They had been that way since he was resurrected from the ocean, not by birth.

"Icarus," Thor urged. "I am growing impatient."

"Tell me again how you managed to become king," Icarus sighed. "Calm Thor, I'm getting to it. I'm trying to figure out how to tell you this. It is no short feet, it took a lot of mental warfare to get this to where it is."

Mental warfare? Thor felt the tension leave his back once again at the words for some reason. It should make him tense, but it didn't and he looked to Jane. She smiled and reached out, taking a hold of his hand that was settled on the arm of the throne. He nodded at her silent reassurance and looked back to his uncle, who had a faraway look in his dark eyes.

"What is your news, uncle?"

Icarus bowed lightly. "When you came to Midgard the other day, I must admit I was not entirely truthful with you."

"How so?"

"Well, I didn't know where Loki was at the time. Knowing his current living conditions, he could have been at my warehouse, out in the bayou, shopping. He could have been on the moon at this point."

"His current living conditions," Jane questioned. "That makes it sound bad."

Icarus nodded a little. "To him it may have been at first," Icarus looked up to Thor. "I will tell you that Loki is in New Orleans. He is living with my adopted daughter, Marcine."

Thor felt his heart skip a beat but didn't react in any other way than informative. "He is living with mortals…willingly?"

Icarus nodded again, a smile on his face. "And he is very happy, more so than he wants to admit. But I will say it has only been two or three days since he got to New Orleans. He just got settled in, she was supposed to be helping him move into a building I gave him but since you arrived, that has been put off."

"I'm still in shock he's living with people," Jane muttered. "From what everyone's told Darcy and I, he hates mortals."

"He does, but I guess he found a sort of kinship in Marcine. She was the first and only human he saved in Midgard. The day he arrived, he saved her from her car. She had been in an accident and most likely would have died. He has a grief over destroying her memories of him."

"That is odd," Thor muttered. "Loki has never felt grief over anything, why a simple mortal?"

"That is not something I am really certain with, but I do believe he feels grief for destroying her. She has scars on her back that makes it hard for her to work. People complain, people stare. She rarely goes out to any place besides the bayous. No one cares what you look like there."

"Does she know who he is," Thor muttered, voice slow and deeper than usual.

Icarus sighed. "Yes, he said he got clumsy and I figure she must have seen him perform his magic. He told her enough. That he is a God, that he knows you. She knows who – what – I am now as well. Didn't really affect her. The strange thing is, the entire time I was there they had to touch each other."

"And that makes you angry.'

"Yes, it does. I raised Marcine for a long time, she is almost my daughter. I know of Loki and the dangers that follow him. If anything happens to her I have already threatened Loki with death."

Thor nodded. "As you should. Did you tell him about my asking about him?"

"Yes, and that is why I am here now. He and Marcine have decided it would be best if you two confront each other in person, in her home. It would be convenient."

Thor stood, letting go of Jane's small hand. "Then I will go now," he looked to Jane and Darcy. "You two are staying here."

Jane growled. "Like hell I am, I'm going with you."

"I'll stay here as long as man candy is," Darcy grinned at Icarus.

He gave her a sly grin in response but snapped back into reality. "Thor, wait a minute," he reached forward and took a hold of Thor's bicep, urging him away from his wife. "After this meeting, Loki has agreed to take Marcine away. If you bring anything other than yourself and the royal guard to her doorstep, I will never forgive you."

Thor let out a long breath. "I understand uncle, do you know where he and this Marcine are at the present moment?"

"No, I don't. They were home when I left but they could have gone out or something since then."

Thor looked up and over when a loud giggle rang through the throne room, seeing Jane and Darcy laughing. He smiled a little and then looked to his uncle. "Why do you think Loki has really grown attached to a human woman? He hated mortals."

Icarus shrugged. "I know what he doesn't, I saw the way he looked at her and I think he just wants to protect her like he did the first time he met her. All your brother has ever wanted was to be a hero and with her he is. He saved her twice. In the car and the day he arrived in New Orleans. You would think it would be she that owes him but he seems to have it mixed up."

Thor grew silent, thinking of his brother with a warmth in his chest. _They are nothing but a heartbeat…_that was what he had called humans when Thor has scolded him for toying with the lives of two human lovers. He was always doing something devious like that, when he was home. They didn't matter then, why did they matter now? Perhaps…just perhaps, his brother was a liar after all.

* * *

_I can't stand sweet Loki anymore, after the next chapter, I am done with him._


	11. Chapter 11

_Maybe I should have been more specific when I said I was done with sweet Loki. I mentioned in the beginning that this story will eventually have dark things and some of them may border on heavy M rating. Loki will not immediately become an asshole. It's more of a gradual thing you will see in later chapters. _

_I have planned for this story to be mostly cheesey. Sometimes I just have to write one to get it out of my system._

_Marcus – Icarus (Loki and Thor will call him Icarus)_

* * *

"Marcine…"

The young woman swayed her hips gently, running her fingers up her sides and through her hair.

"Marcine…"

She smiled and bent gently at the waist, plucking up the beer James held in his hand.

"Marcine…"

She let out a light cough of laughter and lifted the bottle to her lips.

"Honey I believe your date is ready to go home."

Marcie caught a droplet of beer that had drizzled down her chin and she looked over at Loki. Even through beer goggles, he looked delicious enough to take a bite. He was standing in the same spot he had been six hours ago, arms crossed over his chest. She smiled and waved at him, but he didn't seem pleased by her buoyancy of happiness and that made her frown. It wasn't fair. The first time in over three months that Marcine had decided to get drunk and she had a God in front of her. That wasn't even remotely pleased with her behavior. He looked like a pissed pup. Like a scolding parent.

She sighed and stepped down from the log she was on, stumbling for a moment before she was caught by Loki. He held her right arm firmly in his hand, keeping her upright while she watched the beer bottle drop from her hand. It rolled a few inches away from her foot, spilling what amber liquid there was in it, and all the while Marcine watched like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Marcine, it is time to leave."

Marcine scowled and pulled away from him gently, swaying backwards before she caught herself. "Oh sh-hic-shut up," she waved a hand at him and went to turn away.

But Veronica – or as she had insisted several times to Loki in the past six hours, Minx – chuckled and caught her step-sister by her shoulders and steered her back around to Loki. "No, I think he's right. You are very drunk. Time to go home."

Marcine flailed a little. "_Nooooo_," she whined. "I don' wanna go home I wanna stay here!"

"Too bad," Loki grumbled.

Why he was putting up with this, he didn't know. But he was having enough of it. It was time to go. It was late, he was tired and she was drunk. True, the sun was only beginning to set, but it didn't matter. Time to go home and wait for Thor to come bother them.

Marcine stared at him for a long time and then smiled, reaching out and taking a hold of his right hand. "Come on Loki, follow me."

"I have no choice when you are dragging me," he quipped.

She grinned lopsidedly at him over her shoulder and then waved at her friends, who were playing with a new group of strangers that had wondered up. "We're goin this-a way!"

Minx and Amber chuckled; Amber stood on wobbly legs and gave Marcine a thumbs up, reaching around Trish to get to the cooler they had settled in the mud. "Get some action, Marci!"

Loki looked back at her. "No, don't get some action."

Marcine cackled at the way he spoke. He sounded so human! She pushed herself up onto her toes, trying not to get sucked into the mud. She was really drunk, this sounded like a good idea, but Loki would be so angry with her when this was all through. She pursed her lips as they came across a log, her mind telling her to jump, but Loki wasn't really game for that. He wasn't game for anything right now.

"Gotta do this carefully," she muttered.

"It's not a hoop of fire, step over it. Better yet, let's turn back."

Marcine turned and stuck her tongue out at him. "Shut up, I don' wanna go home yet and I'm taking you with me."

"Why must I go with you? Why not take one of your little human friends with you," he grumbled, lifting his feet.

This was disgusting. It smelt like mildew and there were insects buzzing in his ears. He wanted to leave, but she wanted to drag him around in the swamp. He didn't even know where they were going and he was pretty sure she didn't either. He could easily pluck her up and take her back to her car, drive home, but he didn't. Why didn't he? He didn't know. He didn't realize she had stopped until he bumped into her. He opened his mouth, ready to say something that was sure to hurt her feelings, but she was smiling up at him and it successfully shut him up. She let go of his hand and took a step away from him, clasping her hands behind her back.

"I have a question for you."

"And you had to drag me out here to ask," he grumbled. "Why did you not simply wait until we were back in the apartment?"

She shrugged. "Because I'm really drunk right now and I don't want to wait. By the time we get home I'll have lost my nerve."

He raised an eyebrow at this. "Your nerve," he let the words roll around on his tongue. "Alcohol gives you nerve?"

"You've never gotten drunk before, have you," she questioned, still smiling.

He shook his head. "No, but I have seen Thor and ones of his battling buddies get intoxicated before and they were quite annoying."

"_Drunk_, Loki. It's called being drunk and I am very drunk right now so I thought I could do this before it goes away," she swallowed and took a step towards him. "Loki…before Marcus came in today…before he came in were you going to kiss me?"

Now that was something he would sort of rather forget. He hesitated, not wanting to really talk about something like that. In truth, Loki had never kissed a woman before. Sure, he had kissed his mother, but that was just on the cheek and she was his _mother_, not a beautiful woman like Marcine. Not someone who wa_s _pushing their chest towards him so obviously, not someone who had beautiful scars and certainly not the one person who thought of him as a true hero for no reason. No, Marcine was definitely different and he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to touch her more than with a thumb on her cheek.

"…yes," he hated how indecisive he sounded in his ears.

She smiled as if in relief and also excitement. "I knew it," she almost charged at him. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself against his chest. "I knew it…"

She just had to touch him. She just had to push her heat against him, she just had to do this to him and now he had to embrace her back. As his hands met behind her back, his eyes closed and he reveled in her warmth before something broke…everything.

The sound of thunder.

* * *

"_Why is _he _so popular," Loki questioned with a hint of malice in his voice._

_Frigga looked up from the book she and her son had been studying and followed the raven haired child's eyes. He was staring at the window, not at anything in particular, so Frigga listened and then she heard it. Thor. He was being as loud as always, obviously entertaining his legion of friend from his study group, or perhaps his training class. Frigga chuckled and looked back to Loki, reaching up and stroking his dark hair that contrasted so harshly against his pale skin._

"_Because," she started, cocking her head to the right to see into his eyes when he wouldn't look up at her. "The loudest always are."_

"_The loudest are annoying," he grumbled, looking back down to the book laid out in front of him._

_She smiled tenderly. "You didn't let me finish," he peered at her finally from under his brow. "You, Loki, are sadly far smarter than Thor, you will go on to do great things in more areas than your brother will. So what he may be king because of Odin's inane favoritism? _You _will probably take over Heimdall's place, perhaps you can be an advisor or something special," she tucked his hair behind his right ear. "Do not let such trivial things bother you sweet heart."_

_He smiled at her for a moment and then he noticed the sets of eyes on him. Sif and her younger friend, Chrisathiman, were watching them from the end of the book aisle. Sif was smirking at him, books held tight against her flat chest and Chrisathiman was giggled, ever color changing eyes sparkling. _

_Loki grimaced, a faint heat rising to his cheeks, and he waved his mother's hand away. "Mother please," he hissed. "I am not a child."_

_Frigga frowned gently and then noticed the two young women watching them. As soon as she turned her gaze on them they scurried away and Frigga chuckled. "Oh sweet heart, you shouldn't let them bother you."_

"_I can't help it mother," he pouted. "They are always excluding me from any activities. The only time I ever get to join them is when they go ride horses and eventually they leave me anyway."_

"_Then you just have to get smarter than them," Frigga winked and stood. "Come, let's go play in the forbidden section."_

_His head shot up at that and his bright eyes sparkled, hands flattening against the table top. "Really?"_

_He was so excited. Frigga chuckled again and jerked her chin, waving him forward. "Come on Loki."_

_He grinned and jumped up, knocking his chair over in an effort to catch up to his mother. As he reached her side he instinctively took a hold of her hand and she gave it a squeeze._

* * *

"Must you insist on giving me a hard time?"

"It's the stairs fault! Honestly!"

Loki grumbled and rubbed the side of his head with the heel of his hand, looking down at Marcine. She was sitting on the fifth step from the bottom of the stair case, pouting in a bathing suit. "I have to admit, Marcine, your current appearance is quite pleasing but your predicament is rather aggravating."

She smiled at him slyly. "Come have your way with me _oh great King Loki, God of Mischief!_"

He cracked a small smile but then he waved a hand at her. "Quiet, Marcine. You will draw attention to us."

She huffed and rolled around, sprawling out on the metal steps and groaning rather loudly. "Carry me!"

He should leave. He should just step over her and leave.

"No, Marcine. Get up and get inside. You need to sleep."

She shook her head violently. "No! Sleep is for the weak!"

Sleep is for the weak?

"Marcine, get up _now_," he growled. "My patience is wearing thin."

She tilted her head back, staring at him upside down. "You need to get laid or get high, I'm not sure which right now."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. First she puts him in these ridiculous shorts, then she drags him out to the bayou where everything smells like Thor's room when he comes home from a battle…now she's deeply intoxicated, blaming the stairs for why she can't climb up them. Is she trying to see how insane she can drive him tonight, or is she just really this brainless?

"Marcine," he started firmly. "I will leave you out here tonight if you do not get up and get inside right now…" they stared at each other for a long time and then his eyes widened and he looked up, waving his hands around. "Oh my…I sound like my mother."

Marcine busted out laughing and rocked back and forth on the stairs, sliding down a little. "Oh no, wedgie," she cackled, lifting her hips up and reaching behind her.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose again. He was starting to feel more and more like an over worked parent than a God right now. This was why he never wanted children. They were the same as a drunk mortal. Aggravating, loud, rolling around on the ground and getting into as much trouble as possible before they pass out in some random palace. Marcine was no exception. Loki let go of the skin between his fingers and shrugged his way down the steps, catching her off guard as he scooped her up into his arms. She stared up at him in aw, like he had done something amazing. He wouldn't meet her eyes. It was easier than he thought it would be to open the door than he thought it would be and he kicked it shut.

"Oh Mr. Laufeyson, take me away to the bedroom," she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck.

He grunted and nudged her door to her bedroom open. He dropped her onto the bed bluntly, watching as she giggled and bounced on the pillow top mattress. "There, now quiet down and go to sleep."

As he went to turn, her long fingers wrapped around his wrist. "Wait Loki!"

He grimaced and turned around. "What is it?"

The sudden force of her jerking on his arm caused him to bend, almost to the point where he was going to eat the carpet on her floor. But he didn't hit the floor. He hit her face, more specifically her lips. As soon as he felt the tender skin under his own lips, she hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him in deeper. She inhaled deeply through her nose, forcing him down further; of course, he didn't protest. He had wanted this since Icarus so rudely interrupted them earlier. But he was uncomfortable. Of course, Marcine didn't know that and sadly Loki could tell this wasn't her first time with a drunken kiss.

As soon as her tongue danced across his bottom lip, he tried to pull away. But she wouldn't let that happen. She parted lips with him for a moment, her breathing as ragged as his. "Come on," she whispered. "Lay with me."

He shook his head, eyes closed as his cold forehead was heated by hers. "No…Marcine I cannot."

"Why?"

"It is not right."

"I didn't say _fuck _me Loki, I said lay with me," her voice dropped impossibly lower. "I don't want to sleep alone."

He shook his head again. "Not now."

"Why," she urged again, teeth grit.

He licked his lips, tasting the alcohol from her breath. "I do not know if I can contain myself."

She was quiet for a long time, her breathing still ragged and hyper aware. "I just want you to lay with me."

She sounded so desperate, like this was something she actually wanted, but Loki unwrapped her arms from him and stood. He wouldn't look at her face. He couldn't. "You don't mean what you are saying. We will talk in the morning."

He left before she could say anything else, making sure he was as far from the door as possible before he actually listened to anything around him. He didn't want to hear her sigh, didn't want to hear her talk to herself like she inevitably would. He didn't want to think about her but he could smell her everywhere, all around him. He needed to get out of here, but he couldn't. He had an obligation for the moment. Or did he? Who said he couldn't leave? When he thought about it, Thor would find him. And…Loki couldn't leave her.

He stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the window – not through it, the curtain was closed – and then he rubbed his hands across her face. "I am weak…"

_Who says?_

"I say, it is obvious," he began to pace.

_Doesn't necessarily mean that you're crazy, just confused._

"On what?"

_Feelings, never had these before have you?_

"Of course not," he paused and then began pacing again. "I have never had the time, the need, for these things."

_Should have made the time, you would know how to handle this better._

"Who the hell am I talking to," Loki asked in astonishment, stopping in the center of the room. "I am going _mad_."

Of course, he was the God of Mischief. One was to submit to those natural instincts and characteristics after some time. But this was ridiculous. It was happening too fast. He just met this young woman, he shouldn't like her at all, let alone have these strong – intense – feelings for the young woman currently lying in her bed thoroughly intoxicated. He stared down at the floor, finally straining to hear if she was making any noise, and then he decided on sleep. He needed to sleep. He needed to change. He needed his old armor and he would have it on him in the morning. He wanted to feel more like the God he was and not the pathetic human he was slowly becoming.


End file.
